The Enemy of My Enemy
by criminally charmed
Summary: An unexpected enemy? An enemy that the Tracys thought they were safe from? "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." Just when Alan thought his future was settled, an unholy alliance casts doubt if he will even have a future.
1. Chapter 1

**THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY**

_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here. I would not could not on them on a star. I would not could **__**not own them in a bar...I'm, how much tequila would I have had? Actually after about the 15th or 16th shot, I usually would just get really sleepy. Been a while since I could indulge like that. Sad part was I never got hung over. Sleep for a few hours, then get up and go about my business. Ticked off some people.**_

_**Oh, yeah. The disclaimer. (Clears throat) I do not own the Thunderbirds. I do not own them here or there, I do not own them anywhere.**_

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><p>CHAPTER ONE<p>

A woman sat in the corner of the café of Hotel Café Royal, in the fashionable Mayfair District of London, sipping on her tea.

Most of the café was set up for elegant dining and quiet conversation. But in a small part of the bar, a news station, set to silent, was set up. Gesturing to an attendant when an image caught her eye, the woman was given an ear piece so she could listen to the news story.

…_just received these images, released from Tracy Enterprises. Alan Tracy, youngest son of billionaire Jeff Tracy, married his childhood sweetheart, Tin-Tin Kyrano at the family home on Tracy Island. Both of the couple will be working for Tracy Enterprises, the bride working research and development with her newly acquired degree in Electronic Engineering from MIT and the groom having a degree in Mechanical Engineering from Harvard. Alan is also, as of last week, a New York Times bestseller with his first novel."_

"_Rebecca, the couple looks beautiful – like a casting call for a Disney fairy tale._

"_Don't they, Mike? As you know, I have known the Tracys most of my life through my aunt and nicer people you won't meet. Alan has been through a great deal in his young life and has only seemed to come through the better for it. But now it looks like a page has been turned and the young couple, headed for a romantic honeymoon in Tuscany are destined for a happily ever after for their fairytale romance. We at Wolf News wish them all the best."_

Coldly pulling out the ear piece, the woman handed it back. She had been trying to relax after her recent "tragedy". Really, her first husband died having been "poisoned" by the herbal healer his family had always used (the old woman should have really watched out and made sure no one tampered with her goods while brewing). Two years later, her second husband had committed suicide when he had "lost" his investors money – yeah right. Good thing she kept her own accounts under her maiden name.

And now, her latest spouse, dead when his housekeeper had found him with her sixteen year old daughter…it was amazing what some "herbal stimulants" and brainwashing could create – a situation so appalling that no one wanted to look to closely at the "grieving widow" who had quickly fled the country to escape the embarrassment.

And enjoy the money.

But now this. That little bastard was alive, well and apparently getting the happiness that had been denied her. But she had had years to research Alan Tracy. Years to figure out the truth behind the legend. To find someone who hated the "Golden Tracy" as much as she did. Tapping a file, she slipped it into her bag and stood up, exiting the café.

The concierge walked up to her in the lobby.

"Madame Yoshida," he asked politely, "how can we serve you?"

The concierge knew she had married twice more – that was his business, after all – but with one spouse a suicide who was responsible for a massive Ponzi scheme and a second a pervert murdered by one of his servants, anyone could understand why she had quickly gone back to her first husband's name.

"I need a car and directions to West Yorkshire," she said firmly.

"I can get a driver for you - "

"No, I need to go by myself. Just the car, Albert. Thank you."

Soon she was on her way, her GPS leading her ever closer to her ultimate goal – the destruction of Alan Tracy.

* * *

><p>West Yorkshire England isn't really a bad place…By all accounts, it is a rather nice place, as places go.<p>

Unless you happen to go to Her Majesty's Prison Wakefield.

The prison holds some of the most dangerous men in England, men who have committed atrocities so vile they are not mentioned in polite society. To call some of these men monsters is to be kind.

But one resident is called a monster even by his fellow inmates.

Trangh Belagant, more widely known as the terrorist "The Hood", was serving a term of no less than forty years and no more than one hundred. It was the Assurant of Her Majesty's court that the Hood would only be released when he was truly rehabilitated, when he earnestly believed that what he did was wrong.

It was a commonly held belief he would be there until he died.

The Hood received no visitors. That suited everyone fine as no one wanted to deal with him any more than they had to. He rarely left his cell, even his meals being brought to him by his cellmate, a monstrous man who went by the moniker of Mullion. A former professional fighter, the man had been banned from the sporting world when he began to enjoy his opponents pain a bit too much. No one objected to the Hood isolating himself – it spared the staff and the other inmates.

Some scientist, employed by a company in America, found that maintaining a machine that created a low frequency "white noise" disrupted the man's concentration when he was outside of the cell, making sure none of the "mind games" he had liked to employ when he first came to Wakefield would be of use. It was then the Hood began to refuse to leave his cell, preferring to sit and read and ignore most people around him.

A situation that suited everyone else just fine.

But today the Hood had a visitor. An elegantly dressed woman, with high end clothes and a half-veiled hat sat in a room that made a mockery of her designer wear. She had introduced herself as Rena Belagant and had paperwork that showed she was the prisoner's niece.

The Hood entered the room and silently moved to the table to sit down. Looking at the guards, they quietly backed to the door.

"You are not my niece," he said in Malaysian, not expecting her to answer correctly.

Yet she did.

Rena "Gina" Tanaka Yoshida smiled coldly at the Hood. "No. I am not. But what do you expect? They think all Asians look alike. I am Japanese, not Malaysian."

"Not completely," the Hood said coolly.

Lowering her head in what could be presumed as a nod, Gina agreed. "No. My mother was British. She died six weeks after the man I was supposed to marry died. My father informed her a marriage was being arranged for me, in an attempt to regain my family's honor. They felt I had disgraced them with my righteous anger towards the gaijin I held responsible for my love's death. Unfortunately for me, Mother's hotel was the sight of a terrorist attack and she never made it to Japan. I was quickly married off to a man five years older than my father."

"Hiromi Yoshida?" the Hood smirked. "Yes, I had heard he had married a much younger woman in a quest for heirs. He died less than six months later."

Smirking herself, Gina didn't bat an eye. "My husband was a firm believer in herbal therapies. The old woman who mixed his all-natural Viagra made a big mistake. The bigger mistake she made was trusting me to "hide" her book of remedies. I denied having it and have learned so much. Including how to blend solutions to many a problem. That would account for my next two husbands."

"Mind control?" the Hood asked.

"Among others. There were two brothers in America I thought would help me destroy the one who stole my true love from me. I fed the younger herbs to feed his rage and the elder ones to focus on protecting the younger, my berserker…Unfortunately, when the younger brother was killed by one of my enemy's foot soldiers, the elder brother descended into madness. I'll have to work on that. He has a brilliant mind and one that must not be lost to my cause," Gina mused.

"And why should any of this interest me?"

Slipping a newspaper clipping across the table, Gina's eyes were cold. "Because the enemy of my enemy is my friend – are you not?"

The Hood picked up the article, freshly printed and only hours old.

ALAN TRACY, YOUNGEST SON OF BILLIONAIRE JEFF TRACY, WEDS IN PRIVATE CEREMONY ON TRACY ISLAND

The picture, of a beaming Alan Tracy holding his niece, his rightful heir, Tin-Tin, closely, both of their faces shining with love and happiness, filled the Hood with anger.

"He dares to sully my blood with his worthless self?" the Hood hissed.

"Alan Tracy's godfather, who happens to be Jeff Tracy's attorney, campaigned to be the lawyer who made sure you are serving as long a sentence as he could manage. I wondered why – why would a man so respected in business law push to take on a case of alleged terrorism? It had to be personal. You supposedly not only attacked the Thunderbirds, but the Commander's son, a minor child at the time. Alan Tracy would have been what? Fourteen or fifteen at the time? I have spent a great deal of time trying to find a way to destroy Alan Tracy. And I have found it," Gina smirked. "His family. His family is everything to him. And I will toy with them as a mouse is toyed with by a cat. Injuries, scares, whatever it takes. Some may even die."

Gina leaned back with a cold look on her face. "Alan Tracy will want to die a thousand times over before he does."

"And what part do I play in this?" the Hood asked.

"For now, nothing," Gina smiled, a pleasant enough one if you missed her hate-filled eyes. "But I will find a way to get you out. And when I do, minor skirmishes will end. I will hold off on the war until I have my most honorable general, won't I?"

The Hood nodded. He knew Gina wanted to use him. That was fine by him. Yes, the enemy of my enemy was my friend. But you also kept both close by…

So much easier to ram a knife through their ribs like that.

* * *

><p>In Tracy Two, Alan leaned back, holding Tin-Tin close to him as he tenderly kissed her sleeping head.<p>

"You know, I won't tell if you guys want to do more than snuggle," Gordon smirked as he leaned in the doorway.

"No, you'd imply," Alan sighed. "That would be worse. Besides, Tin and I waited this long. We can wait until we are in Lady P's villa. Did you call Julie?"

Gordon shrugged. "I thought I'd surprise her. You really think she wants to see me? She did leave while you were still in the hospital."

"Gordo – she loves you. Don't blow this one. I think you would regret it for the rest of your life."

Smiling at his little brother, Gordon nodded. "I'm gonna do my best, Sprout."

Laughing, Alan shook his head. "Like Dad always says – that's all we can ask for. Now, shouldn't we be approaching Tuscany now?"

Nodding again, Gordon went back to the controls, removing the auto pilot as he talked to the control tower and plotted their decent. Soon…everything would be alright soon.

In the cabin, Tin-Tin sat up with a gasp.

"Sweetheart?" Alan asked in concern. "Are you alright?"

"The plane," Tin-Tin looked around nervously. "You were flying the plane and it went down…oh, God Alan…"

"Honey, I'm not even flying it right now," Alan laughed. "And I'm fine. We're fine…In fact," Alan said with an attempt at a leer, "you are amazing."

He nuzzled her neck with a low growl, making Tin-Tin laugh and then sigh. "Oh, yeah…fine," she sighed again.

"We'll be landing soon!" Gordon called out. "Buckle up and get your clothes back on."

Sighing again – not the pleasant sound it was a moment before, Tin-Tin glanced at Alan. "Who had the brilliant idea to have THAT brother fly us out?"

Alan just laughed. Nothing could bother him today. Today was the start of the rest of their lives. But as the plane began its decent into Milan, a cold shiver ran down his spine…

A/N will update as often as I can but a week to ten days will probably be the average. I am still working two jobs, and have some personal concerns. One is my mother's health has not rebounded and we are talking with the palliative care nurse. So reviews I will appreciate, constructive criticism I will respect, and anonymous insults will be deleted after I mock them with a few select friends. Oh, you don't know what friends are? That doesn't surprise me. CC


	2. Chapter 2

The Enemy of My Enemy

_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here. I would not could not on them on a star. I would not could **__**not own them in a car...Heck, I technically don't own the car, I am making payments, so the bank still owns eighty percent of it.**_

_**And an apology before I even start. I am not Italian, have never been there (would like to) and do not speak the language. This is Google translator at work. So be kind.**_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Julie Maxwell stood still, poised and ready to dive in. She had already competed in two events, the two hundred meter backstroke – not her strongest so she was pleased to have gotten a bronze, and the 200 meter relay, which her team had captured the gold. But Julie wanted a gold that was hers and hers alone. And the 800 meter freestyle was considered "her" event.

Breathing in and out, Julie pushed any other thoughts out of her head. There was no family who only noticed her for what they thought they would get out of her, no Gordon (although that hurt a bit, she still loved the goon), no nothing to distract her from her win.

"GO JULES!"

Julie glanced up, catching the auburn hair dancing off of Gordon's head. Seeing the love and pride in his face made her smile. When he blew her a kiss, Julie absolutely beamed.

"Tracy!" Coach Matt Cohen yelled. "Stop distracting my swimmer!" But it was said with laughter in his voice. Matt had been on the Men's Olympic team with Gordon – although he had competed in quite a few events, compared to Gordon's one – and no one not named Tracy had smiled bigger when Gordon won the gold…

Even as Matt stood next to Gordon on the podium with his silver.

"You can do it Jules!" Gordon yelled, winking at Matt even as he waved roses at Julie. They were yellow roses, her favorite.

Julie gave a quick nod at both men and refocused herself with a grin. She was going to do this, she was going to win…

Then Julie blocked everything else out as the voice of the announcer called out for the swimmers to take their mark…

* * *

><p>Alan and Tin-Tin had arrived at the villa, smiling at the fabulous view before glancing nervously at each other. They had waited to consummate their relationship for years…and now that they were married and finally alone…<p>

"Let's go get dinner first," Alan blurted out nervously. Seeing Tin-Tin's startled look, he smiled and took her hands in his.

"Tin, we have the rest of our lives for, um, that. I know, we've taken more cold showers than anyone should have to take in ten lifetimes. But for now, let's enjoy ourselves. Parker told me about this fantastic restaurant in the village that sounds like an Italian Miss Millie's. Afterwards, we can walk on the beach before coming back here and um," he stumbled at the end.

Tin-Tin laughed before running butterfly kisses down Alan's face before nuzzling his neck. "OK, I know better than to get between a Tracy man and food. Let's go."

Alan would have protested but he was kinda hungry…

As Tin-Tin cuddled close before they headed to the rental car (Alan was glad Lady P didn't keep a car here, he would have been hard pressed to ignore a pink car – or use one), Alan couldn't help but smile. Life was just about perfect - he was happy, his brothers (provided Gordon didn't screw up with Julie again) were settled and happy, the family as a whole was all healthy and happy. Life was full of promise and bad times were behind him.

A cold shiver ran down his spine, as if just having that thought was sending a flashing neon invitation to fate – _"C'mon, bitch – give me your best shot_." But Alan ignored it…

He would later wish he hadn't.

* * *

><p>Gina Tanaka coolly reviewed the information she had available to her. Alan Tracy had a large family, a series of accidents and mishaps could – and if she could help it, would – to the members of the Tracy clan. Ultimately, Alan's tragic demise could be chalked up as an accident as well.<p>

No. No Gina wanted Alan to die but it would be by her hands, she needed to see the light fade from those blue eyes. Those eyes…Tomo had always spoken of Alan's eyes…

"_Will you stop looking at that picture," Gina snapped. "One would think I should be jealous of your love for Alan Tracy."_

"_You of all people know I don't swing that way, Gina," Tomo had sighed as he had set down a picture of Alan he had taken when he had run about to Wharton's for a track meet. "And I have told you, Alan is my otouto."_

"_That gaijin is not your family," Gina exclaimed, rolling her eyes._

"_Family is what you make it," Tomo had said firmly in response. "And I consider Alan my little brother. Family is very important to me. Do not belittle that to me again."_

"_Dali," Gina cooed. "I just want to know that when I am with you, I have your full attention."_

_Tomo frowned. He disliked it when Gina called him that, knowing that some younger Japanese women would say "dali" or darling to their boyfriends. But to most Japanese, love was something private – there were no Japanese words for "sweetheart". It was little things like that which convinced him to keep Gina as a College girlfriend, but to seriously consider letting his uncle's mother-in-law, a respected matchmaker, start looking for a proper wife for him._

_Besides, if Gina didn't get along with his family – and Alan was a part of that – Tomo would never move forward with the relationship._

_Not to mention what his mother had said. "Marry that girl, Tomo, and expect to visit me in prison after I strangle her at the first family gathering."_

"_Such blue eyes," Gina had murmured, regaining Tomo's attention. "I can't see the interest in blue eyes like that."_

_Tomo had smiled. "Well, a lot of girls – and even a few boys – would disagree with you. But it is the expressiveness of Alan's eyes that are the most amazing. In his case, the quote is right – the eyes are the mirror of the soul. And Alan's is a pure and noble soul with a loving and gentle heart. He has the strength and pride of a warrior but so much love…Well, everything he is – you can see it in his eyes."_

_When Tomo brushed past Gina as his phone went off, Gina became furious when Tomo ignored her as he answered it and Alan Tracy appeared on-screen. Soon the two were rapidly speaking in a hodge-podge of English and Japanese, making Gina lose track of the conversation. She grabbed her bag in fury and stomped out, slamming the door. Waiting on the other side for a minute, Gina waited a moment before opening it back up quietly._

_Tomo never even looked back, still in animated conversation with the teenager Gina was quickly coming to hate._

"It was your fault," Gina murmured as she tapped Alan Tracy's wedding picture. "I hate you." Gina stabbed at the picture with a nail file. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" the woman begin to rant, her voice on the rise as she repeated stabbed at the image until Alan's face was absolutely obliterated.

* * *

><p>Alan and Tin-Tin walked hand and hand through the streets of the village of Populopnia, smiling and occasionally pointing sites out to each other. The villagers were all friendly and smiling as well. While the "Exclusive" enclave that held several expensive villas had annoyed the locals at first, having claimed some former public beaches, they had learned that the five homes were all purchased – or used by friends or family of – people who just wanted some peace and quiet.<p>

And the jobs maintaining and supplying the villas paid very well.

Lady Penelope was a particular favorite of the villagers and having the young couple who she had told her local housekeeper would be here on their honeymoon made the romantic Italians all sigh and smile indulgently. So far, the pair had been much like the lady in pink – warm, friendly and polite. The fact that the young man spoke Italian also made many of the local appreciative.

After all, Italian was a beautiful language.

The honeymooners were just about to return to their rental car to head back to the villa when an elderly woman planted herself in their path. Giving a close look at Tin-Tin, she nodded briefly before grasping Alan's face in her hands and whispering, "Testato da fuoco e ghiaccio, figlio di un figlio della terra. Cuore coraggioso e nobile spirito, gare accanimento contro la logica. Sussurra la morte, ma il cuore resta fermo. Sarà voi chi sarà il padre del fenice, e che si fermerà la morte e le tenebre dalla sua vittoria."

"Nonna!" a younger woman came running from a small shop, putting an arm around the older woman. She smiled and shook her head, speaking in clear if accented English. "I'm sorry, I was in back doing inventory. She wanders at times."

The younger woman looked sad suddenly. "My grandmother has been worse since my mother passed a month ago. Mama was the only one of her children to survive to adulthood. It's…"

"It's wrong for a parent to outlive their children," Alan said kindly, taking the old woman's hands. As she squeezed his hands back she whispered something as her granddaughter led her away.

"Teresa has the sight," an old man said, nodding at Alan. "Heed her words and be grateful for the blessing she gave you." Then he too entered a small store, closing the door behind him.

"Alan," Tin-Tin said. "Italian is close enough to French for me to understand the blessing she said before she left. But what did she tell you before?"

Sucking in a breath, Alan nodded before he translated for his bride. "Tested by fire and ice, the son of a son of the earth. Brave heart and noble spirit, rage races against logic. Whisper death, but the heart remains steadfast. It will be you who will be the father of the phoenix, and that will stop the death and darkness of his victory."

"So," Tin-Tin said with false lightness as Alan held open the car door for her. "Our oldest son is to be called Phoenix?"

Alan chuckled. "No, I won the pool with my brothers; our oldest son would be Jefferson Tracy the Second. But our oldest daughter will be Samantha. No Phoenix Tracy if you please."

"Alan," Tin-Tin laughed as he started the car. "Elizabeth is the only girl…"

"And Samantha will be the next girl," Alan said firmly.

Tin-Tin laughed again and shook her head. Alan so had it in his head that their yet-to-even-be- conceived child would be a girl…

But she'd love a little girl, too.

* * *

><p>Gordon Tracy watched with pride as Julie bent down to sign autographs for some French schoolgirls who looked like they had been models for the classic children's book "Madeline". Gordon knew that while Julie may have competed for America, France considered her an adopted daughter and many considered her to be one of their own. Julie's rapid French was a loss to Gordon but the redhead remembered his own afterglow of the Summer Olympics in Boston – and his words of encouragement to the children.<p>

Julie stood up and waved as the girls all followed the Matron, chattering excitedly.

"You're their hero," Gordon smiled as he put his arm back around her shoulders.

Julie shrugged, shyly tucking a stray caramel colored curl back behind her ear. "I was inspired to be something more by an Olympian. I am simply – what is the phrase? – paying it forward."

"And who was this amazing athlete?" Gordon asked with a laugh.

"You," Julie said simply.

Gordon stopped and stared at her once more before gently kissing her.

The couple were about to cross the street when some more children approached and Julie began to talk to them. Gordon motioned to the restaurant across the way, indicating he would make sure they didn't lose their reservation – after all, two gold medals? And a new world record? They had a lot to celebrate…

Especially Gordon, who was celebrating that his girlfriend had accepted his apology for being – how to she put it? – the world's biggest ass.

Julie had a way with words.

Gordon finished speaking with the manager, assuring their reservation was waiting for them (the upscale establishment was not about to turn down two Olympics athletes, one who had local ties and the other who was a Tracy), and began to cross the street to re-join his girlfriend.

Julie glance up from talking with the children (this time from a boarding school in Scotland that she had never heard of) to see Gordon lightly jogging across the street. A noise further down the road caught her attention. For the most part, the small side street was strictly foot traffic, something local officials were trying to encourage. Less vehicles were safer to all the visitors.

Plus, foot traffic provided more business.

But the car racing down the road in the fading daylight must have not gotten that memo.

Julie shook her head in dismay before she suddenly froze as the car swerved directly at Gordon…

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN - I have been often asked why so much pain and suffering for Alan? Why is he the only Tracy I hurt?_**

**_That will change in this story. Get ready for a bumpy ride, folks. CC_**

**_Thank you for the kind words in regards to my family. My mother is still doing as well as can be expected and as a firm believer in the power of prayers, I thank you for your positive energy sent our way._**

**_Oh, and I don't know how many of you have noticed, but Spense is once more posting to FanFiction and has written a few awesome stories lately. For those not in the know, Spense's Thunderbird stories are one of the things that got me into writing in this verse (Sam1 can also assume some of the blame - Sammygirl1963 is at fault for my Supernatural stories). So if you haven't read what Spense has posted lately - DO IT DO IT DO IT!_**


	3. Chapter 3

The Enemy of My Enemy

_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here. I would not could not on them on a boat. I would not could **__**not own them on a float...I Love a parade! The rooty toot toot, of a parade! **_

_**Apologies...the disclaimer and most replies were done while under the influence of cold medicine. I blame Bristol Meyers, which I do not own either.**_

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><p><strong>Chapter Three –<strong>

Julie's heart stopped for a moment. She knew Gordon could usually move pretty fast – considering how many pranks he had played on his brothers over the years, it was needed – but she also knew his back was bothering him, even if he hadn't said a word.

Pushing past several other pedestrians, Julie grabbed Gordon by the shoulders and pulled him with her, making sure that it was her body that landed on the cobblestone street.

The car flew by them, a dark blur, so close they could feel the heat from the exhaust.

Gordon's face was pale, the spattering of freckles usually hidden by his year-round tan now obvious. Looking down, he was alarmed to see Julie's eyes were closed.

"Jules!" he cried in panic. "Baby, are you ok?"

"I – will – be," Julie gasped. "As – soon – as – someone – gets – off – me."

Gordon chuckled, realizing his full weight was lying on top of Julie.

Something certain body parts of his were clearly already aware of…

Quickly standing, Gordon held out a hand for Julie.

Breathing deeply, Julie grabbed Gordon's hand, groaning as she stood up. "I think it is a good thing I am done competing," Julie groaned again.

See the scrapes and knowing that Julie would soon be an array of bruises from where her back, shoulders and, um, backside, had hit the ground hard, Gordon only nodded. "C'mon. I don't know if you took advantage of it while in the Paris apartment, but there is a full service restaurant in the building that will deliver for a service fee."

Julie let loose a weak chuckle. "Most of the food didn't fit Coach's strict pre-competition diet. So - no, I did not."

"JULIE! GORDON!" Matt ran across the street, breaking through the crowd that had encircled the oblivious pair.

"Are you ok?" the coach gasped.

"We were almost freaking run over," Gordon grumbled. "No. Now, I am taking Jules to Paris, my car is right over there -"

"You should both be checked out -"

"Matt," Gordon soothingly said. "I'm fine, thanks to Julie and I can check over Julie myself. I think she's just got some bumps and scrapes. I'm a certified medic – the whole family is, considering where we live and all."

Any further objection was shushed away by Gordon, even as Matt followed them to the flashy convertible Gordon had leased at the airport. Handing Julie gently into the car, Matt eyed her warily before whispering something to Gordon as he walked away.

"What did the Coach say to you?" Julie asked as Gordon started the car and pulled out of the parking spot he had leased for the day from a local business owner.

Gordon just sighed. "Seriously? Does Matt Cohen think he's scarier than Kate? No one can threaten better than Kate. And she has already promised death, destruction and a loss of manhood should I hurt you."

Julie just smiled.

* * *

><p>Jeff looked at the stack of files on his desk, sighing in frustration.<p>

"So much for a paperless society," he grumbled.

"Dad," Kate laughed as she entered Jeff's home office. "If you didn't insist on hard copies, there would be fewer papers."

"Did you finish that report? And did Scott get everyone back to the mainland yet?" Jeff asked, not looking up from the R&D report in front of him.

"Scott just left Kansas, the last of the wedding guests are home safe and Scott and the boys are on their way back to the Island as we speak," Kate assured him. "As for the report, check your in-box."

When Jeff began to dig through the papers in his in-box of his desk, Kate sighed. "Not that in-box, Dad," she groaned. "The one on your computer."

"Oh," Jeff mumbled, using the mouse to click appropriately. "OK. Thanks, Kate."

"By the way," Kate added. "Gordon sent a message. Julie won her competition and is letting him take her to dinner to celebrate. And yes, Alan and Tin-Tin are safely in Tuscany."

"Huh. Maybe I should call and check on them…"

Kate laughed, interrupting Jeff. "Dad, they are on their honeymoon. Do you really want to call and interrupt your youngest son finally getting, um, _busy?"_

Jeff flushed, trying to figure out how to answer that when the vid-phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, Jeff smiled and answered.

"Penny! Calling so soon…"

"Jeff," Penny interrupted with unaccustomed rudeness. "I just received word from Wakefield Prison. They said the Hood had a visitor today – his niece."

"That's impossible," Kyrano said as he entered with coffee for Jeff. "My brother has only myself and Tin-Tin as blood kin. And Tin-Tin…she is nowhere near him. She despises him for what he tried to do to Alan and the rest of our family."

Seeing the man's discomfort, Kate helped him to a chair, taking Jeff's coffee cup away with a frown. Shaking her head – knowing that Jeff had already had the two cup limit Emily had set for him – she set the cup as far from her father-in-law as she could.

"Penny, I'm going to call Alan," Jeff said. "I'll call you right back. Let me know if you learn anything more."

Kate chuckled. "Let's hope this goes well."

Both fathers glared at her.

* * *

><p>Alan and Tin-Tin entered the villa, kissing passionately and beginning to remove clothes. Alan still was dressed – well, he still had on his pants – when his phone began to ring.<p>

"Who on earth?" Tin-Tin groaned.

Picking up the phone, Alan sighed, mouthing _"Dad" _before answering it.

"Hey, Dad," Alan said cheerfully. "I thought you wanted more grandchildren. Not the way to get them, calling me like this."

Tin-Tin giggled at the silence emanating from the phone before they heard Kate's husky chuckle.

"Alan, both your father and father-in-law are in the room," she laughed.

Now Alan blushed; he may be willing to tease his father but Kyrano…

"Is there anything wrong?" Alan asked hastily. "Gordon is ok, right?"

"Far as we know Alan," Jeff assured him. "Just thought you should know, well, um…"

Seeing Jeff and Kyrano both at a loss as to what to say, Kate jumped in.

"Identity theft," Kate quickly said. "Um, someone tried to use a credit card for Tin-Tin Tracy. Seeing as how she hasn't even had any issued like that, the police are investigating it as identity theft. Hold off using any personal cards. I'll have someone from the Rome office drive up with plenty of Euros and a business account card. You can re-pay the business account once you get home, ok?"

"OK, Kate," Alan said. "I'll leave it in your hands."

"Now," Tin-Tin laughed, taking the phone from Alan. "Just leave Alan in my hands, ok?"

As the phone disconnected on the Tuscan end, Kyrano and Jeff looked at each other and shook their heads.

They so didn't need to hear that.

Kate stood up. "Call Lady P back. Tell her Tin-Tin is safely in Tuscany and that I'll make sure they stay safe."

"How do you propose that?" Kyrano asked, morose as the dark specter of the Hood once more seemed to threaten the peace his family had found on Tracy Island.

Shrugging, Kate headed to the door. "You'd be amazed how easy it is for the right people to hack into security cameras. Damn, I'm gonna owe some of the NSA goons big time for this."

Jeff shook his head again, even as Kyrano gave a small smile.

They probably didn't need to hear that either.

* * *

><p>The Hood sat in a meditative pose. The small smile on his face gave a passing guard the chills.<p>

"Out of my way," Mullion growled.

"Mullion," the Hood calmly said, not even opening his eyes. "Be courteous."

"Pardon," Mullion said sarcastically, smirking as the guard scurried away.

Setting a dinner tray in front of the Hood, Mullion stood back up, trying to think of how to tell his boss what he had heard on the news report.

"If you are trying to figure out how to tell me that Alan Tracy has married my niece, do not concern yourself. I am aware of it."

Mullion tried not to let his jaw drop. The Hood never left his cell, he had no news brought to him other than by Mullion. How?

Smirking, the Hood repositioned himself and began to eat. Looking up at his loyal minion, the mad man nodded. "Never question me again, Mullion."

It never occurred to Mullion that his boss had had a visitor during the time the other man was in his mandatory anger management class. And the Hood was not about to release his air of mystique – not when it served him so well.

* * *

><p>Ana Nevada smiled into the camera. She may have been totally scooped on Alan Tracy's love life, but she was quick to report on the sole bachelor Tracy now…<p>

"This is Ana Nevada, reporting from the Olympic Village just outside of Paris. Today Julie Maxwell won the gold for America in the Women's 800 Meter free style," she said, glancing at her cheat card, so she actually got the event right. "France was cheering just as loud, considering the swimmer actually spent most of her youth at a girl's school in this country. But it was definitely an American who was cheering the loudest for her. The last single scion of what is practically American Royalty, the playboy prince himself, Gordon Tracy. Gordon, a former Olympian himself, was seen cheering for the object of his affections before presenting her with a stunning bouquet of pink roses. According to sources, Gordon left not long after while his latest infatuation is surely back in her quarters in the Olympic Village. Ms. Maxwell, we have heard from many people, is the one who no one worries about for behavior, since she still appears to be the star student from a convent school. Will a good girl be able to reign in America's bad boy Prince? I guess we'll have to wait and see. For Internet News Network, this is Ana Nevada."

* * *

><p>Paula Tyler opened the door to the cottage she shared with Julie Maxwell in the Olympic Village. Most cottages held up to six athletes, but two had left yesterday and another three were due tomorrow…plus she doubted Julie was going to stay, not now that she had made up with her boyfriend. Glancing in the mirror, she brushed back her own light brown hair.<p>

Several people had commented on how Paula and Julie had a "first glance resemblance" to each other. But Paula had some red hair-lights while Julie's caramel colored locks were more a rich gold. Still…It had been useful a time or two until others realized she wasn't the "superstar" Olympian but someone who had barely made the team and was lucky to have been on the same team with Julie Maxwell for the two hundred meter relay. Paula was hoping that that medal could help her get her foot in the door for Hollywood. God knows she hadn't even come close in her other competitions.

It was eerily quiet in the cottage by herself, but Paula pushed that thought aside. Frankly, Paula was glad to have the place to herself for the moment. Maybe she should invite those two hotties from the Russian Weight Lifting Team over? A knock at the door drew her attention.

Heading over to the door, Paula swung it open.

"Flowers for Mademoiselle Julie Maxwell," a voice could be heard behind the display.

"Goody," Paula smirked, reaching out for the flowers. She could just remove the card and claim they were for her – the little nun would never need to know.

Her hands had barely closed around the vase when a sharp pain in her side stole Paula's breath away. Glancing down, Paula was shocked to see a blade being pulled from her side. Letting go of the vase, she stumbled back into the cottage.

The dark figure in the doorway followed, setting down the vase on a table. The blade glowed dimly in the fading light, the bright red blood the shiniest thing on it. It took Paula a moment to realize that the blade was ceramic – of course, with the metal detectors and other security measures, it was the only thing that could get through.

"P-please," Paula mumbled, clasping her bleeding side.

"You will be the first to die for the sins of the Tracys," the figure said from somewhere in its hooded shirt. "But not the last."

"Why?" Paula gasped, blood loss and fear dropping her to her knees. She didn't know any of the Tracys! Why her?

Grabbing Paula by the front of her shirt, one that was clearly marked "Maxwell – USA" (Paula's had been dirty and Julie's had been just, well, hanging there, neatly, in the back of the closet), the figure raised the blade again.

"Time to die," it hissed, swinging the blade forward, the razor sharp porcelain slicing through Paula's neck.

Paula fell to the ground, blood pooling from both her side and neck, her head still barely attached after the savage attack. Her attacker leaned over and grasped her hand to write a letter in Paula's blood before straightening back up.

The figure turned around, pulling off the blood sprayed hoodie and wrapping up the blade, both items to be dumped in the next trash can. Using a clean part of the bloody garment, they opened the door to make sure no fingerprints would be left. Now to make his report – his work here was done.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - Ah, the first death...**_

_**Alan (sighing) - OK, who pissed you off this time?**_

_**CC - Hmm. Not sure. I wrote that scene a while back. But it works, doesn't it? Someone pointed out the possible connection between severed jugulars in writing is you just want someone to shut the hell up.**_

_**Alan - You never cut my throat - should I be glad?**_

_**CC (smirks) Never say never, Alan. You can survive that, you know.**_

_**Alan (pales) - Um, be nice, CC.**_

_**CC - Huh. Those words don't seem to belong in the same sentence, you know.**_

_**Alan - CC will be back after she has a nice cup of herbal tea and CALMS THE HELL DOWN!**_

_**CC - Maybe. But it seems awfully soon to do that. LATERS! **_


	4. Chapter 4

**THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY**

_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here. I would not could not on them on a newt. I would not could **__**not own them in a zoot suit...Mainly because I wouldn't wear one because it would make my hips look bad. And padded shoulders? Shudders. Please. I lived through the eighties. Enough Said.**_

_**And there was an anon review which I did not choose to keep that implied I disliked strong women. Basically that any woman that shows ambition, Kate Tracy excluded, was either killed or humiliated. That is patently false - I admire strong, ambitious women and like to think of myself as one. Jean Landman? A former marine, baseball star and a sheriff, who held her own in multiple male dominated roles? Any of the Tracy wives, thank you very much? We have an ex-FBI agent turned VP of a global corp, an emergency medical specialist, a Physicians Assistant (still mostly men, believe me, I work at a hospital), and an electronic engineer. Rebecca the reporter is a nice person who respects her subjects and gets ahead, unlike Ana who bounces from network to network because facts get in the way of a good story to her. Paula wasn't an ambitious woman - she was a bee-atch of the first order. And I kill off men just as easily. Just annoy me enough and you will see. No, the reviewer will not become one. **_

_**I allow reviews without being signed in because some of my readers can't when they review. This is not an option for cowards and idiots so I can delete those. Read -really read - my stories and you will see I admire people of ambition and fortitude. I despise users, losers and people who think that respecting others is something that is beneath them. Karma is coming - sometimes I just help it along a little.**_

_**So now, in honor of 21 years today with my husband and best friend...an early update.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

Julie stretched and smiled. She ached in places she usually didn't but all in all – she felt pretty good.

"And what brought that smile?" Gordon asked as he looked entered the room, a robe tied loosely around his body.

"You," Julie purred. "I thought you were just going to give me a massage last night," she laughed as he began to kiss her neck.

"What can I say," Gordon growled as his kisses grew in passion. "You felt good. But what made you change your mind?"

Julie pulled back, pressing her hands against his face. "I could have lost you yesterday," Julie said seriously. "And all I could think is what I would have missed."

Gordon became serious as well. "I love you, Jules. You know that, right?"

"Well," Julie said coyly. "You said it often enough last night."

Clasping her hands, Gordon kissed them before looking her in the eye.

"I want to marry you. I know you have a lot on your plate and I want to do this the right way. No hole-in-the-wall ceremony. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams."

Julie smiled through her tears as she kissed Gordon back. "You waiting for me at the altar – that is the wedding of my dreams."

"Well," Gordon laughed. "Still – we have to do this right or Kate will kill me."

"Why are you so scared of Kate?" Julie laughed back.

"Because I am a sane, rational person," Gordon said seriously. "And I want to live beyond thirty."

Julie started to laugh again when Gordon's phone rang on the bedside stand.

"Tracy," he answered quickly.

"_Gordon, please tell me that Julie spent the night with you," _Matt Cohen's frantic voice came through.

"Yeah, she's right here, why?" Gordon responded.

"_Get her back here as soon as possible," _was Matt's only answer before hanging back up.

Gordon looked at Julie and shrugged. "Guess its back to the Olympic Village."

"What for?" Julie asked, having been told she could even leave France now that her events were done. In fact, her bed was even spoken for as of tomorrow. Well, the one in the Village at least.

"Probably just some media thing," Gordon sighed, recalling his own Olympic win. "Come on, let's go before Matt freaks."

* * *

><p>Alan smiled as he brushed back a strand of Tin-Tin's long black hair, kissing the tip of her nose. His new bride wrinkled her nose before sighing and rolling over, unwilling to leave slumber's arms.<p>

Slipping out of their bed, Alan stretched and found the robe that had been laid at the end of the bed. The housekeeper Lady P employed had been absolutely discreet. Having noticed the pair in the village, the woman had come back to the villa, unpacking their clothes and setting a bottle of wine to chill.

They never had gotten to the wine.

But she had also set the coffee to brew early this morning and Alan gratefully poured a cup for himself. He had never been as coffee mad as his father and oldest brother, but he had also been known to push himself and appreciated a caffeine blast on occasion when he hadn't had much of a chance to sleep.

And man, they sure hadn't slept much last night.

Walking outside, assured by Lady P of their privacy, Alan leaned against the railing of the patio and admired the beauty of the sunrise. He bet the sunsets were spectacular here over the Atlantic, although he personally felt it would be hard to beat the views back on Tracy Island.

"It is a lovely day," a voice said in Italian, making Alan look around. He saw the old woman from the night before – Teresa – looking at him.

"S-sorry," Alan stumbled. "Um," he muttered, trying to make sure his robe was secure.

Teresa laughed, moving towards Alan and patting his face. "I was married for forty seven years to my Roberto and bore four children, including two boys. I have seen the male form before and you cannot shock me young man."

"Can I help you?" Alan asked politely, pulling a chair from a patio table and offering it to the elderly woman.

She shook her head. "I just wanted to see you again. You are a special young man."

Alan shrugged even as he blushed. "I'm just an ordinary guy."

"No," Teresa said firmly. "You are the rock upon which your family has built a legend. You are the rock upon which the phoenix will burst forth from. You are the light in the darkness. You are love."

"Phoenix," Alan mused. "You said I would father the Phoenix."

"It is appropriate," Teresa mused with a smile. "You are a child of the wind. The two of you will be birds of a feather. God and his angels will bless you."

"Alan?" Tin-Tin called out from the house.

"Tin?" Alan responded, moving towards the door even as Tin-Tin reached the spot.

"Who are you talking to?" Tin-Tin asked.

"Oh, just…" Alan's voice trailed off when he looked behind him and saw that he was alone on the patio.

Ignoring the cold chill that ran down his back, Alan turned back and kissed his new bride.

"Come on, I'll make you some breakfast," Alan smiled.

"I could get used to this, Mr. Tracy," Tin-Tin grinned.

"You are supposed to, Mrs. Tracy," Alan said as he began to kiss a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear.

He ended up making her lunch.

* * *

><p>Gordon and Julie pulled into the way-too-small and currently crowded parking lot closest to the Olympic Village. Few of the athletes or coaching staff had access to a vehicle, relying on the shuttle buses that ran regularly from 0400 to midnight. But when questioned at the entrance of the parking lot, a French police officer had quickly waved them in before calling to a superior on his radio.<p>

"Julie! Gordon! Thank God, you are both alright," Matt said frantically as he ran up to them.

"Mr. Cohen," a Frenchman in a basic gray suit said quietly. "Please allow us to speak with Monsieur Tracy and Mademoiselle Maxwell first. Excuse us."

"What's going on?" Julie asked, slightly intimidated by the fact there seemed to be a lot of police activity directed around the cottage she had been staying in.

"Mademoiselle Maxwell, where have you been?"

"Who's asking?" Gordon responded sharply.

"Pardon," the man answered. "I am Jean-Luc Desrocher, of the Police Nationale. You may have heard of us referred to as the Surete at one point." When Julie nodded quickly, Gordon a bit more slowly, Jean-Luc continued.

"Your roommate was attacked last night, Mademoiselle Maxwell," he explained. "And as there is a surface resemblance and she was wearing a shirt bearing your name, we were concerned."

"Paula?" Julie asked, concerned. "Is she alright?"

"How well do you know Mademoiselle Tyler?"

"Not very well," Julie admitted. "She was a last minute replacement when Sharika Johnson was in a car accident."

"You do not seem surprised she was wearing a garment that was clearly yours."

Julie shrugged. "Paula had a tendency to "borrow" stuff. She usually put it back and after today, I would probably never see her again. Anything I truly value that I brought to France with me, I left at the apartment in Paris. My employers, Tracy Industries, maintain several apartments in Paris for use by guests, executives and one, a three-bedroom apartment, for family. Last night I was on my way to dinner with Gordon when he was nearly hit by a car. If you check, we were called last night at the apartment by a member of Gendarmerie Nationale, a Marie Dubois. There was little information, but I understand the car was stolen and it was all being written off as joy-riders, probably foreigners." Both Julie and Gordon had been a tad annoyed that it seemed as if the local authorities were happy to credit any crime to foreigners during the games.

When Jean-Luc nodded, indicating he had seen the report, Gordon picked up the story.

"Julie and I had dinner at the apartment and then because it was late and we were both banged up a bit from the near miss, we decided to spend the night."

"In the same bedroom?" Jean-Luc asked bluntly.

"It's none of your business -" Gordon began only for Julie to squeeze his arm.

"The same bedroom," Julie said quietly. "I am not ashamed of falling in love, or being intimate with a man who has asked me to marry him." Looking at Gordon, she shook her head.

"I believe they are asking because Paula is dead."

"How did you know that?" Jean-Luc asked.

Julie sadly answered, "The Police Nationale is under the Ministry of the Interior – it would only come here for a major crime. Or am I not correct?"

"You are," he admitted. "There is also the fact someone tried to implicate either you or Monsieur Tracy, we are not sure which. There was an attempt to write either a "J" or a "T" in the victim's blood. But I have been assured by our forensics experts that this would have been impossible as Mademoiselle Tyler was dead before she hit the ground."

"She was shot?"Gordon asked.

Pausing, the inspector questioned himself if he should answer. Deciding a more real danger probably remained for the young lady, he answered.

"Her throat was slit," Jean-Luc said bluntly.

"Julie," Matt interrupted. "Do you need anything from your quarters immediately?" When Julie numbly shook her head, he spoke to Gordon.

"Get her the hell out of here. Preferably out of the country. I've got a bad feeling about this one."

"Usually I would argue, Monsieur Tracy," the inspector sighed. "Mademoiselle Maxwell may be of value. But I believe Monsieur Cohen to be correct. The young lady may be in danger herself and I must now question if the "accident" of yesterday was that."

"Julie and I will be heading out of France before lunch," Gordon said firmly.

"Will I be able to reach your through your New York office," Jean-Luc asked.

Julie began to say yes, when Gordon shook his head and spoke.

"No. I'm taking her home to Tracy Island. At least until Kate can look into this."

"Kate?" Jean-Luc asked, taking out a data pad to make notes.

"My sister-in-law and Julie's boss. She's ex-FBI and still has plenty of contacts in the Intelligence community. Here," Gordon said pulling out a business card and writing on the back. "This is Kate's direct line at the Tracy Enterprises, as well as her cell. If there is a threat to either Jules or me, she'll know what to do."

Gordon hurried Julie into the car and drove back out of the parking lot, after making sure Matt would forward Julie's belongings to the family's Paris office, ignoring the calls from several members of the press who were being held back by local police officers.

"Gordo is bringing in the big guns early," Matt muttered, a bit annoyed he couldn't tease his old friend about finally getting tied down. Seeing Inspector Desrocher's surprised look, the coach grinned.

"Katherine Eppes Tracy is also known as America's Iron Lady. Classy and extremely business like, but not someone to cross. Her father trained her way too well."

"Her father?" Jean-Luc asked.

"Don Eppes was the director of the FBI until a few years ago," Matt said. "And Kate has a reputation of being a bigger bad-ass than him."

Thinking of the legendary former director of the FBI –because who in law enforcement in the Western World – and parts of the rest of it – hadn't heard of him, the inspector discreetly swallowed hard.

OK, now he was a bit scared.

Noticing the nervous look on the man's face, Matt hid a smirk.

Kate Tracy had that affect on people.

* * *

><p>Gina Tanaka Yoshida sat quietly in the small café, once more watching the world go by. There were few other patrons and with the pouring rain now falling in London, no one else had elected to sit so close to the large French doors. But the solitude was what she wanted.<p>

A slender Asian man sat down in front of her. Gina never even turned from the windows as he began to speak.

"I made the first moves on your behalf, Yoshida-sama," Aito Yamamoto respectfully said.

"I believe my instructions," Gina hissed, "were to observe Gordon Tracy. Yet according to the news out of France, not only did he survive a near hit and run, but his girlfriend's roommate was murdered."

Aito nodded tensely. This was his cousin's widow and he was serving her just as he had his cousin, with faithful devotion. It was tradition within their family.

"Not only did you fail to physically harm Gordon Tracy, you killed – and it is much too soon for deaths. In addition, Gordon Tracy will alert his family that they need to be on the alert."

"How can they presume the two incidents are connected," Aito insisted. "And I thought that was his girlfriend. They look a lot alike and she was wearing a shirt with Julie Maxwell's name on it." Seeing the tightening of Gina's jaw, Aito began to panic. There were many in his family who suspected Gina was a mahoutsukai – a witch. Too many unexplained deaths seemed to follow in her wake. He didn't want to become one of her casualties.

"I left no evidence they can use against me," Aito assured her. "And the police in France think the hit-and-run were joy-riding visitors. Besides, did you not want the Tracys to fear what would happen?"

Gina gave a minute nod. "Next time, do not make a move without my authorization. Do not disappoint me again. People who disappoint me are often left, shall we say, disappointed themselves…"

That said, Gina stood up and walked away leaving Aito glad to simply be alive.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - By the way...Gina is not a woman of ambition. She is a freaking nut job.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY**

_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here. I couldn't own them made of glass, you don't believe me you can kiss my...Tiptoe, through the tulips...**_

_**Thanks for congrats on my anniversary (shocked someone can put up with me for twenty one years, aint' ya?) and continued prayers for my mother. At this time, Mama has chosen to defer any further chemo, wanting the energy to spend time with those she loves, which I agree with. But a few more prayers would be appreciated. **_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

Alan stretched even as he glanced behind him to where Tin-Tin was curled up in a ball, sleeping. Their honeymoon in Tuscany had been perfect – lots of love, laughter and happy memories…

Yep. Lots of love.

Lady P and Parker had swung over to Italy, picking the pair up before heading to New York. While in New York, the newlyweds had met up with Kate who had Tracy Two and Alan flew his sister-in-law to Los Angeles, where her sons were. Kate's parents were celebrating their wedding anniversary and although Scott, currently finishing up a rotation on Thunderbird Five, couldn't be there, Alan knew the Eppes understood.

Well, at least Don Eppes, who knew the Tracys were International Rescue, understood. Robin Eppes was distracted by getting her two grandsons for a week prior.

Alan knew that Gordon was safely back on the Island, Julie as well – at least until Kate went back to New York. At Jeff insistence, the younger woman would be moving into one of the guest apartments in the Tower, but Kate wanted Julie to wait to move in until she would be back in New York.

"_As far as we can tell," _Kate had admitted the night before, _"we can't find anyone who would go after Julie. Her stepfather is an ass, but he was out of the country by the time of the murder. And no Tracy enemies were in the area. The French police are still maintaining the hit and run was an accident and that more than likely, Paula Tyler was murdered by someone who had it out for her, not Julie. Apparently, Paula had more than her share of enemies. Still, we're going to protect Julie as if the threat was real. And just to be on the safe side, I'm going to try and trace her biological father. I have someone in Europe on it and he said he should have something for me by the time I get back to the Island."_

_Alan had nodded, understanding that his family had wanted the newlyweds to enjoy their honeymoon uninterrupted, but seriously – he wasn't a little kid anymore!_

Alan sighed slightly, a smile erupting when he thought about the gift he had found for the Eppes. Kate's family was warm and welcoming and as far as they were concerned, the Tracys had all become family after Kate's wedding.

"_Alan," Tin-Tin had smiled, holding out an intricately carved panel with "Familia" etched in wood. The country scene, with children playing in the sunshine while generations of adults watched, was beautiful._

"_That would be perfect for Kate's parents' anniversary," Alan murmured before he quickly began to barter in Italian with the merchant. A few minutes later both men smiled in satisfaction._

"_You could have afforded his original price," Tin-Tin giggled as they walked away._

"_What would be the fun in that?" Alan whispered, making his bride laugh out loud._

_The couple was laughing so hard, they almost ran into a young woman who was hurrying back into a business. Unlike the shops around it, this one was still closed, even this close to lunch._

"_Scusa," the young woman sighed before looking at the couple._

_Alan instantly as the granddaughter of Teresa._

"_Teresa's granddaughter, right?" Alan asked with a smile, glancing around for the old woman._

"_Yes," she answered sadly. "I am Magdelana. You are the young man staying at Signorina Penelope's villa, yes?"_

"_Yes," Alan smiled. "I'm Alan and this is my wife, Tin-Tin."_

_The joy of the young couple was infectious. Magdelana smiled back. _

"_Is your grandmother around?" Alan asked. "I wanted to ask her something."_

_Tears came to the young Italian woman's eyes. "I am sorry. My grandmother died during the night. But she – I do not know why. She seemed at peace after meeting you yesterday evening. Thank you for whatever it was you said to her. Grazie. Now you must excuse me, I have to prepare the house. My relatives are coming soon. And my husband is serving with the army at present so I am not sure if he can make it back."_

"_Do you need any help?" Tin-Tin asked kindly._

_Magdelana smiled through her tears. "No. No my neighbors have been helping where they can. Thank you. God bless you both."_

_Tin-Tin watched her go back indoors and turned to Alan in surprise. She had been sure he would have offered first but when she looked at her husband, Tin-Tin became concerned. Alan was pale, his eyes wide in shock._

"_Alan? Honey, are you ok?"_

"_But – but I talked to her this morning," Alan whispered._

Tin-Tin had quickly put Alan into the car and drove them back to the villa. By the time they left Tuscany, Tin-Tin was convinced that Alan had been dreaming that morning.

Alan was not convinced but chose not to argue the point.

But as Alan began the approach to Tracy Island, he suddenly could hear Teresa's words again: _Sarà voi chi sarà il padre del fenice – _You will father the phoenix.

Warmth and cold seemed to war in Alan at that moment, as if a great joy and a terror beyond measure awaited his future self. He pushed the jet a bit harder, anxious to be back among his family…

He would be safe there.

* * *

><p>Don Eppes grinned as he bounced his younger grandson on his hip, kissing the top of DJ's head. Grandchildren, he thought, were indeed the blessing his father had always called them.<p>

Seeing a sad look in her father's eyes, Kate Eppes Tracy kissed his cheek and snaked her arm around Don's waist. "Thinking about Grandpa?" she asked softly.

Looking at his only daughter, Don smiled again. "How did you know?"

Kate grinned back. "You get that look in your eyes when you look at the grandchildren – the one that says you know how much Grandpa would have adored his great grandbabies. I remember how he was when Maggie's oldest was born. I wish he had lived long enough to see the others."

The current listing of Alan Eppes' great-grandchildren was 7 boys, two girls. From Don, each of the twins had one child each, one boy and one girl, with Kate's two boys rounding things out. Charlie currently had four grandsons and one granddaughter, with Maggie, his only daughter and the oldest grandchild, having one each. Edward and his wife Ellen were due home today with their newborn son, Charles Edward Eppes the Third. To Edward's annoyance, Kate's nickname of Trey – gambling slang for third – was already sticking for his son.

Ellen liking it had just put icing on the cake.

"So…any chance of a granddaughter from my daughter?" Don teased.

"Pfft," Kate scoffed. "Not likely. Scott has the wrong hair color."

Don chuckled, having heard Alan's theory of why John so far had the only Tracy granddaughter.

"Yeah, laugh it up," Kate muttered. "But Alan has a spooky way of being right about these things."

Seeing Kate worry her lower lip briefly, Don frowned before handing DJ off to his wife Robin, who was currently in the process of rounding up the children for lunch.

"What is it, Katie Bear?"

Kate sighed before smiling at her father. The man knew her way too well. Soon she found herself explaining – quietly, of course – what was going on.

"Katie," Don said in a comforting tone. "Sometimes it can all just be a coincidence."

"Dad," Kate frowned. "There's coincidences and then there is ignoring a pattern."

"You sound like your uncle," Don grimaced.

"Considering my uncle is the man who uncovered California's most prolific serial killer using math, discovering decades of murders where no one even knew they had existed, because he could see a pattern no one else could, I will take that as a compliment," Kate smirked before the smile faded.

"C'mon, Dad," Kate hissed. "A woman that we have yet to identify just happens to visit the worst enemy the Tracys have, a man who tried to murder them all, and less than twenty four hours later two members of our family are targets?"

"First off," Don said, "Julie isn't a member of the family – at least not yet – and secondly, she wasn't the victim."

"She may as well be and she may have well been," Kate retorted.

"Well," Don agreed, "that may be. But they are all safe on the Island, except you, the boys and Scott. Your significant other is um, _there_," he stressed, rolling his eyes towards the sky. "And you and the boys are here. And I may be retired, but I think I can protect you and my grandsons."

"You mean you can help me protect the boys," Kate countered, watching her sons, niece, nephew and cousins – ok, first cousins once removed – sitting at the picnic table by her uncle's koi pond, happily devouring their meals. "I think we have long since established I can protect myself."

"Nope," Don disagreed. "It will always be my job to protect my baby girl."

Kate looked to argue but just then Uncle Charlie threw open the back door, proudly leading out Edward and Ellen as he carried his latest grandson in his arms.

When his daughter hurried over to admire the newest Eppes, Don followed a bit more slowly, thinking he should take Katie and the boys to In-and-Out Burgers, like he used to when she was a little girl. It would be fun to share that memory with his grandsons…

It was with some effort that Don ignored the cold chill that suddenly ran down his back at that moment. But it did reinforce his desire to protect his family – no matter what.

* * *

><p>Gina sat at a desk in her home office, flicking through documents that had been forwarded to her. She allowed one of her late husband's nephews to act as the figure head to his business interests, but within the family everyone knew that Gina was in charge. The woman scoffed slightly as she recalled the dismay among the Yoshida Clan when she had made it clear that she was not going to sit and be a proper widow. Gina had a business degree from Yale, after all. She had planned on going on to Cambridge for her MBA but her marriage had put an end to that idea.<p>

Scowling at one file, Gina nearly growled. Yoshida Industries had put in a bid on a new jet engine for the military. But Tracy Enterprises had been awarded the contract. The government had sent a letter, explaining that while the financial terms had been nearly equal, it was felt by their experts that Tracy Enterprises design was more stable and that their safety record was unmatched.

Seeing Alan Tracy's name on the design team for his family's company only steeled her resolve. Part of her wanted to dispatch with the idea of making him fret and suffer through his family before killing him, but Gina knew that true justice would only be met if her nemesis' emotions were frayed by his fear…The Hood had assured her that Alan Tracy's greatest fear was to lose his family, any of his family but certainly all of them. While Gina didn't know – or care – if any of the Tracys died in the coordinated attacks, even attempts would cause him pain.

Setting aside the family business files, Gina pulled out her personal business file. Flipping through the photographs, Gina absently checked off the locations of the Tracy Family Members. Most were secure on their personal island, safe from any outside influences. Emily and Sarah Tracy were frequently at the medical clinic they worked at, but they flew in and out each day, escorted by either of their spouses, since both John and Virgil were working on a project at the Auckland Tracy Enterprises office. Possible but…

Then Gina smiled coldly. Katherine Eppes Tracy, former FBI agent and wife of eldest son, Scott, was in California at the moment. Scott Tracy was not with his wife but their two young sons were. And the Tracys were not staying at a hotel but at the home of her elderly parents. Yes…

Gina only vaguely glanced at the information on Don and Robin Eppes, having noted that they were retired government employees as she called Aito Yamamoto in New York. She had instructed him to acquire lodging close to Tracy Enterprises, feeling it was best to be in a position to observe, so as to strike at the perfect times.

"Aito," Gina said in her iciest voice. "Be on the next plane you can get to Los Angeles. Check in to the Westin Hotel. I have reserved a room for you. It is near the airport, so you can leave quickly as well. There will be a file waiting for your arrival. It is time to make Alan Tracy sweat a bit more. And Aito? Try not to kill, but a little bloodshed would be lovely."

Hanging up the phone, Gina set aside the file in her personal drawer and pressed her thumb to the lock, securing it to prying eyes. With that piece of business out of the way, Gina returned to the income statement for the second quarter. On to new business…

* * *

><p>Alan had learned patience – not easily, but he had learned it. He waited until he and Tin-Tin were hugged half to death, making them both feel like they had just returned from a ten year voyage to Jupiter instead of ten days in Italy. He waited through a huge family dinner that had followed a conference call between Scott on Five, Kate in LA and the Island (seriously, only John could hook up a space station, a vid-phone and a cell phone like it was nothing). But when the last of the dishes were cleared and Jeff had retreated to his office, Alan quickly followed his father there.<p>

Closing the door behind him, Alan steeled his resolve.

"OK, Dad," Alan confronted his father. "What wasn't Kate telling me? And why wasn't I informed sooner."

Jeff had already frozen when Alan closed the door. His youngest disliked closing the door to Jeff's office as it tended to remind him of the stormier days of their relationship. So he knew something would be coming that Jeff didn't want to deal with.

"Alan," Jeff calmly responded. "We didn't want to ruin your honeymoon. After everything you and Tin had been through, we felt you deserved that. Kate told you everything relevant, I promise."

"Dad," Alan growled, his Tracy temper rising to the surface.

Knowing the one thing that had been held back, Jeff pulled a manila folder from a locked drawer, handing it to Alan.

Alan opened the file and went so pale, Jeff was sure his youngest was about to pass out. Alan waved his father away as he stumbled into a seat.

"The Hood," Alan whispered in horror. He flipped through the scant information Kate had been able to gather before she had to go to New York a few days earlier. In the back of the folder, he found a photograph that he pulled out. Closing the folder back up, Alan set the picture on top and stared at it.

"I feel like I should know her," he whispered, drawing Jeff's attention.

"I wish you did," Jeff grumbled. "She presented documentation that passed some of the strictest security measures in Western Europe, failed to appear without that veil in any security footage, wore gloves the entire time so there were no fingerprints, and if it wasn't for the scant information we do have, I'd be wondering if she was a figment of our imagination."

"Not a known associate of the Hood?" Alan asked.

Jeff shook his head. "Not as far as Kate can tell – and you know how thorough she can be."

Alan grinned. Yeah, he knew.

"I just can't help but feel…"

Alan's words were cut off as a gust of wind whooshed through the room before he could jump up and close the doors to the lanai. The retreating curtain caught on a small framed photograph and pulled it to the ground, smashing the frame and shattering the glass.

Alan began to move towards the picture as the main door opened, with Kyrano coming in.

"Do not pick that up, Alan," his father-in-law said calmly. "Here, I will get a small broom. Why do you not go join the children – they are waiting for Uncle Alan to tell them stories."

Alan smiled and hugged his father-in-law before going off to spoil his niece and nephews – he had presents for them as well.

Kyrano quickly cleaned up the broken frame, wiping off slivers of glass from the picture before he sighed. "The image was damaged, I will give it to Professor Hackenbacker, he should be able to restore it."

Jeff glanced at the picture, recognizing it as one of Alan, Tomo and Tin-Tin from Alan's high school graduation. He smiled in thanks at Kyrano, knowing how much Alan treasured all reminders of his late friend.

"Say, now that Alan is your son-in-law, do I finally get to be called Jeff?" the Tracy patriarch teased his long time friend/ employee.

"Of course not, Mr. Tracy," Kyrano said with dignity, holding the picture carefully by the small bit of the photograph that had been folded to the back, completely missing just who had been cut from the image by a simple fold – Gina Tanaka.

* * *

><p>Scott Tracy absently looked over at the communications board. He was glad that this part of the family business was slow…it gave him less to worry about. Glancing at the file open in front of him, Scott made some more notes. Like his father, he preferred paper files, much to his wife's annoyance.<p>

Thinking of Kate and his boys, Scott smiled. The boys had called him this morning for a "daily update".

"_Poppy is taking us to InOut, Daddy!" Jason had happily said._

_Kate laughed as she bounced DJ on her knee. "In and Out – the burger chain? Every Friday, Dad and I would go there. Dad thought it would be fun to take the boys before the party tonight."_

"_How much junk food are you parents slipping our kids?" Scott teased._

"_Not enough to worry me," Kate had assured him. "But, um, Onaha doesn't have to know, right?"_

_Scott had chuckled and shook his head. And they called him a mother hen…Most people didn't know how bad Onaha was._

"_I miss you," Kate said softly._

"_I miss you too, sweetheart," Scott sighed. "But I'll be home in a few days."_

A sudden cold chill ran down Scott's back. He fought it back…His family was fine.

They had to be.

* * *

><p>"Did you really come here with Mommy?" Jason asked his grandfather,<p>

"Yep," Don laughed as he held his grandson's hand. "Every Friday after school."

"Good thing we were Jewish, not Catholic," Kate muttered.

Don just laughed again. His phone rang and he glanced down at it. "I have to take this," he said as he handed Jason to Kate. "Get us a table, will you baby girl?"

Kate eyed her father curiously – the man was retired after all…

"Charlie," Don said with enthusiasm. "Were you able to…Awesome. Robin is going to love it. And…ok, ok. We'll talk at the party tonight. Hey, we're at the In and Out not too far from Cal-Sci. Do you want to…Ah. Department Meetings. Fun stuff, bro. You ever think of retiring?"

Kate listened absently as her father's voice carried over to her. There was a nice covered patio area at this location and the boys were use to eating on a lanai at home.

"Mommy," Jason excitedly said. "Do you see all those big trucks and stuff?"

Kate glanced across the street. A building – and it must have been huge – had been a total loss in a fire two weeks earlier. Kate bit back a grin. The building may have been utterly destroyed, but thanks to help from International Rescue, even the fierce Santa Ana winds blowing that day had not stopped them from aiding the LA County Fire Department in making sure not a single life had been lost. It looked as if huge garbage trucks were hauling away the last of the debris.

"Yeah, baby – I see them. Do you want a hamburger, cheeseburger or grilled cheese?"

"Meat, Mommy – meat."

Kate sighed. He so was Scott's son.

* * *

><p>Across the street, Manuel Aquino took another sip from the jug of ice tea he kept in his truck. His wife would make the home made drink for him every day in milk bottles she had sterilized. It was supposed to be better for him than the coffee he used to drink. The mild heart attack he had suffered the year before had scared his wife of twenty years and Maribel had taken every piece of advice the cardiologist had given them to heart.<p>

Suddenly, Manuel felt odd, and when his cell phone rang he answered without looking at the caller ID.

"_Put your truck in gear and drive as fast as you can right at patio. Aim for the dark haired woman with the two boys. Now. You must do this now."_

Manuel put his truck into gear and jetted across the room, clipping three cars and causing two more to crash into each other even as he entered the restaurant parking lot…

* * *

><p>Don glanced over at his only daughter with her two boys. He could still see a dark haired girl with long braids, sitting at the table, laughing and telling her daddy all about her week. In turn, he would tell her a sanitized version of his own week. There had always been a special bond between them and he was glad he had been able to take the time to be the kind of father his own dad had been.<p>

Suddenly, the smell of his father's sandalwood aftershave seemed to fill the air around him and Don's voice stopped mid-sentence. He could hear his brother's voice calling out in concern as Don looked around for a threat.

It was then that he saw the dump truck racing towards his daughter and grandsons…and Kate had yet to notice.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - OK...**_

_**Kate - Let me guess? Another bad day.**_

_**CC - Call me a b!+c4? You better be related to me via blood or marriage - or at least buy me dinner first.**_

_**Kate - Try shooting them. I find it works great.**_

_**CC - Um, you are not real and you were a Fed, before marrying into one of the riches family in the WORLD. Apply any of those, you can get away with a lot more than someone like me.**_

_**Kate - You do realize you are basically arguing with yourself. And losing.**_

_**CC - Thank you, Peanut. Can you put Jeff Dunham back on the phone now and stop picking on me?**_

_**Kate - Last time I try and help you.**_

_**CC - And you wonder why I am driving a truck at you.**_

_**Kate - Because you only hurt the ones you love?**_

_**CC - Well, Alan is my favorite Tracy.**_

_**Kate - A fact of which he is VERY painfully aware.**_

_**CC - Apple crisp anyone? Laters.**_


	6. Chapter 6

**THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY**

_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here. I could not own them in a nook. I couldn't find them in a book. However, I did find that letter that I swore to my husband I had mailed. Oopsie. Price of getting old.**_

_**And a reminder- my oc's are just that: mine. Using them without permission, in fan fiction, adult fan fiction or anywhere else - including Facebook- without my express permission is a major no-no that I will fight.**_

Chapter Six

Don Eppes could hear his brother's voice shouting in concern. He could hear the screech of brakes and sounds of metal crunching on the road. But he could also hear his heart pounding so loudly that he was sure it was about to leap from his chest.

Looking at where Kate was, Don realized that between the car alarm going off in the parking lot, a honking horn in the drive thru and the music being piped from the restaurant's stereo system, it was unlikely that Kate was hearing the disaster the speeding truck was leaving in its wake. She was completely focused on her sons and all Don knew was that if he didn't get to her time, he would lose his baby girl…

"_Katie!" Don screamed in panic as he pushed aside the body of the fallen drug dealer, a monster that Don had put away years ago, only to escape prison and try to abduct Don's youngest child. His nine year old daughter lay in a crumpled heap in the very streets where she had played for years. As Don pulled her into his arms, he was horrified to realize Katie was bleeding from her neck._

_Charlie knelt beside his brother, holding out his bundled up shirt, which Don quickly used to put pressure on the gunshot wound. Tears ran down Don's face as he begged her not to die, begged God not to let her…_

Dropping his phone, Don ran across the parking lot, more desperate then he had been for more than two decades…

* * *

><p>In a prison in England, the man known as Mullion sat in the prison library, carefully flipping through a magazine.<p>

"A Tracy Wedding" trumpeted the headline in People. Mullion glanced at the pictures that had been approved for release. The magazine acted as if they had been given exclusive when actually they were just running all of the released images instead of a couple like most periodicals had.

The final picture, showing the combined Tracy Family, caught his eye. If things had gone the way the Hood had planned, most of the people in it would be dead or, in the case of the young children, never been born.

Mullion wasn't sure what the Hood had going on with his "niece" but the former mixed-martial arts fighter knew it would be bad for the Tracys. Glancing around at his surroundings, the man smirked coldly. Good.

It was time for the bad guys to win.

* * *

><p>Kate Tracy smiled at the way Jason carefully helped his little brother into the seat next to him. The outdoor patio seating wouldn't usually let her sit the toddler on the bench, but the way it worked into a corner had allowed her to settle a booster sit in the L shape and DJ could feel like "a big boy".<p>

"KATIE!"

Kate froze at the panicked scream from her father. She hadn't heard that kind of terror in the man's voice since she was nine…

"_Katie! Katie, baby…oh God. Please God. Not my baby. Oh, God, Charlie, there's so much blood…Please…"_

The young mother turned to look at her father only to stare helplessly as a dump truck barreled across the parking lot, having already caused several accidents in its wake and head straight for her and her sons.

"_Katherine Louise!" _

At the sound of full name in her ear, Kate grabbed both of her sons and started to move back from the table, only to trip over the oversized bag she had set down, filled with her sons' "necessaries". Falling backwards, Kate gripped tightly onto the two young boys so that they didn't hit the ground.

Somewhere, Kate could hear her father screaming her name again, just before her head hit the cement patio and she blacked out.

* * *

><p>In Thunderbird Five, Scott felt like the breath had been ripped from his body. He fell to his knees, panic washing over him. A bullet to the chest hadn't caused this kind of pain…<p>

Pushing himself back up, Scott staggered to the console. His family. He had to contact his family…

* * *

><p>"John?" Alan asked as he reviewed a file.<p>

"Hmm," John murmured as he made notes on the report in front of him.

"What do you know about Yoshida Industries?"

John shrugged, not even looking up. "Not much. Moderate company, respected, family run. Never looked for much business outside of the Japanese peninsula. Why?"

Alan made a note of his own. "They've become very aggressive the last couple of years. It seems like they keep trying to go up against Tracy Enterprises, even when they should reasonably know they don't have a shot."

Continuing writing a question to bring up with Kate – it was a software security question – John was silent for a moment before he looked up at Alan.

"OK, Sprout – what does your gut tell you: delusions of grandeur? Out to make a name for themselves by chasing the big dogs? Or something personal."

Alan looked thoughtful. "Delusions of grandeur are not uncommon, but I don't think so. Making a name by going for contracts in the big leagues when you still belong in the minors worked for Dad. In fact, according to Mary Anne, he got some of those contracts and they helped build the company." Alan took John's grunt of agreement to continue.

"As for something personal, well as far as I know, none of us have any enemies in Japan. Certainly no one named Yoshida. But if this happens again, I'll run it past Kate. See if she can get the lowdown on the family."

"Sounds good," John smiled, looking up at his youngest brother. "You're really thinking like a businessman."

Alan blushed slightly and ducked his head, muttering, "Thanks."

The brothers worked in companionable silence for a moment longer before Alan spoke again.

"Oh, and John?"

"Hmmm?"

"Don't call me Sprout."

* * *

><p>Don Eppes ran, faster than his body should have allowed given his age. But desperate times call for desperate measures and Don didn't think he had ever been so desperate in all his years with the FBI.<p>

He had seen the truck, he had seen, Kate take notice, he had seen Kate grab her sons and then he had seen Kate lose her balance and fall.

He hadn't seen Kate since.

All around Don he could hear noise. People were screaming, the truck was rumbling ominously closer, brakes were screeching – but for Don it was as if he were in a bubble, located behind a thin barrier, separating him from the scene. The only reality for him was his daughter and grandsons.

If ever there was a time that the phrase "failure is not an option" would apply, this was it.

Running into the now deserted pavilion, Don skidded to a halt next to his daughter's still body. Jason was huddled next to his mother, clinging to DJ and sniffling, trying to hide his terror.

"Jas," Don snapped. "Grab your brother and -"

Don glanced up in horror as he realized the truck was practically upon them. There was no way for him to get his unconscious daughter and distraught grandsons out.

Looking around, Don saw the outdoor service area that had been set up, allowing for drinks and some small service at peak hours.

"Jason, you and DJ get behind that counter!" Don yelled above the approaching vehicle. Picking up Kate, he hurried to get the family to a hopefully safe spot.

Settling Kate under the counter, Don pulled his grandsons closer and huddled over the three of them, praying harder than he had in years.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN - Short but a perfect place to traumatically end it. Be good, review (I think I answered everyone except Sammygirl1963 and since she sees the rough drafts...eh) and I will try and put up chapter seven by the end of the week. _**

**_BTW - Kate tripping over a bag and injuring herself? Did it myself this past summer and ended up in the ER. Spent a month hobbling around after injuring my knee. CC_**


	7. Chapter 7

**The Enemy of My Enemy**

_**_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here. I could not own them on a moose. No, I wasn't really a fan of Dr. Suess...My daughter's favorite story was Chicka-Chicka Boom Boom. My mother's ideas of bedtime stories...well. Do you remember Fractured Fairytales from Rocky and Bullwinkle? Yeah. That does explain a lot, doesn't it?**_**_

_**_**Oh, so I also don't own Numb3rs or Emergency.**_**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

Charlie Eppes flashed his identification at the police as he was escorted through the crowd by retired police captain Gary Walker.

"You're lucky so many of these guys worked with me," Gary muttered to Charlie.

"They're lucky I didn't get the IRS to audit anyone who tried to stop me," Charlie snapped in return.

The pair stopped at the edge of the accident site with their hearts in their throats at the site of a body bag being loaded into a coroner's van.

* * *

><p>Jeff Tracy sat at his desk, thumbing through a file when suddenly the emergency beacon from Thunderbird Five went off.<p>

Without even thinking, Jeff hit the button to signal his family that the Thunderbirds would be needed. He could feel his own watch buzzing, and he gave a small smile, knowing that if Emily was on the Island at the moment, she would pleased that none of the children would be awakened from their naps by the claxon.

Alan, John, Virgil and Gordon raced into the room, Gordon mouthing "with the kids" to indicate that Julie was successfully distracted – yet another reason to be glad that the claxon was no longer needed to call in the team for a rescue.

Jeff connected the Island to the space station, nodding at Scott who looked incredibly pale.

"What's the situation, Scott?" Jeff asked, standing behind the desk, looking every in the Commander.

"Katie," Scott gasped. "I can't reach her. Something is wrong – really wrong, Dad."

"You can't be sure," Gordon began to argue, even as Alan headed towards his father's computer and began to hack Los Angeles County Emergency Services.

"Where were Kate and the boys supposed to be right now, Scott?" Alan calmly asked. At the surprised looks on his family's faces, Alan shrugged. "Never mess with Smother Hen Instincts."

Scott was too upset to be annoyed at the name and answered his youngest brother. "In and Out – the one close to Cal Sci. Kate said her father used to take her there when she was younger and that sometimes Uncle Charlie would join them."

Alan suddenly became pale himself, causing his family to worry. He sucked in a deep breath before looking at his father.

"Dad, LA dispatch says that a construction vehicle caused a multi-car accident at that site before crashing into the restaurant itself. Early emergency services personnel state there is at least one fatality."

Sarah, having slipped in behind her husband, looked over at Alan.

"Do you still have Charlie Eppes' cell?"

Alan nodded at his sister-in-law, pulling out his phone and quickly selecting a number.

The room was so quiet; the Tracys could hear the ringing of Charlie Eppes phone.

"_Hello?" _

Alan became more concerned, hearing how distraught their honorary uncle was.

"Uncle Charlie? It's Alan," he quickly rattled off. "Have you seen Kate today? Scott…"

Charlie Eppes rapidly began to explain, with Alan picking up the key points –

Don had been on the phone with him.

Don had dropped the phone, screaming his daughter's name.

Charlie's call to emergency services when he couldn't raise his brother or niece had gone in at the same time as almost three dozen 911 calls.

He was now at the scene – and a woman of Kate's description had been seen in the patio area with two small boys just before the accident.

No one had seen any of them since.

And the patio was a shattered mess with a dump truck in the middle of it.

* * *

><p>Gina glanced at her phone after hearing the alert for a text message. Seeing it was from Aito, she picked it up and looked at the message.<p>

Scenes of absolute devastation – and a body bag – brought a small smile to her face. _Dear Alan, _Gina mused. _How will you handle it when you realize this was all your fault._

Setting the phone back down, Gina returned to the R&D spreadsheet in front of her. Back to business.

* * *

><p>Alan glanced at Scott quickly before coming to a rapid decision. Most of his family didn't realize just how good a hacker he was.<p>

They were about to find out.

"Uncle Charlie," he said as he split the screen on the computer in order to multi-task. "I need to speak with the person in charge of the rescue."

Gary Walker and Charlie Eppes looked at each other in surprise before Charlie shrugged. He had learned not to question the Tracys. Besides, he knew what Walker didn't, that the Tracys were International Rescue.

Charlie was sure Alan had something up his sleeve.

Walker looked around and saw a fire captain, who he signaled to.

Fire Captain Chris DeSoto saw the signal and came over.

"Captain Walker," DeSoto politely nodded at the man. He recalled working a rescue scene when he was only a boot and Walker was about to retire and still held the man in the highest regard.

"DeSoto," Walker nodded. "See you made Captain. Congrats."

"With all due respect, sir," DeSoto began only for Walker to cut him off.

"But you have a rescue. Well, this is the brother of one of your victims. The others are his niece and two great-nephews. The brother-in-law of your female vic is on the phone and he thinks he can help."

Before Chris could object, he heard Alan's voice come through.

"_You said Captain DeSoto. Is that Christopher DeSoto, age 38, Captain at LA County Fire Station 51?"_

When Chris nodded, Charlie answered so that Alan could actually hear.

"Yes, Alan. That's who it is."

"_OK, Captain DeSoto. If you look on your phone right now – um, now, actually, you will see a layout of the collapse. Using satellite imagery, and thermo heat sensing technology, there are…yes! There are four life signs, all in a small area that should be flashing…now. If you were to work using the schematics I've sent you, you should be able to lift the rubble for long enough to get our family out."_

The fire captain stared for a moment before pulling out his phone. To his shock, he found everything just as the young man on the other line had promised.

"How – how did you access this?" he stuttered.

"More importantly," a slender young woman asked as she adjusted her helmet, a second man – much taller and broader than her – standing behind her. "Are you sure about this?"

"_How I accessed it? Well, I may have to offer to improve the security on a US satellite and we may owe a foreign government an apology for hacking into one of theirs. And this is family – I have to be sure. With all due respect, and I refuse to use false modesty, a couple of the best engineers on the planet are in this room. They are looking at the data and agree with me."_

"He hacked into two different government satellites?" the taller man, with a name tag of Simpson, whispered to his partner.

The woman, whose badge read "J. Gage, Paramedic Firefighter", shrugged. "I saw worse in the Air Force," Gage muttered before she frowned. "Then again, maybe not." But if the data helped them save the victims, she couldn't care less where it came from.

Charlie watched as the three firefighters headed over to the rest of their station and began to work.

"Alan," he said urgently. "Are you sure?"

Looking up at his brother, seeing Scott as afraid as he had ever seen his oldest brother, Alan swallowed hard before he repeated himself.

"I have to be."

* * *

><p>Don Eppes remained curled around his family, whispering words of comfort over and over to his grandsons while his daughter remained silent. The boys were refusing to be calmed by their Poppy, instead crying over and over for Mommy, Jason even whimpering for "Daddy to come with his 'bird."<p>

Tears ran down Don's face as he brushed at the boys' hair, grateful that he would only feel bits of dust in the locks. When he had done a similar action with Kate, Don had felt the stickiness of blood mixed in with her black hair.

"_Please God, not my babies," _Don prayed over and over. Suddenly, he felt as if someone were squeezing his shoulders and smelled sandalwood once more.

"Dad," Don gasped. He didn't believe in ghosts but he believed in his family. He knew his father was with him at that moment.

Just then, a slab of concrete shifted and Don threw himself over his family once more. Sunlight suddenly broke through the newly made opening.

"Hello!" a voice called out and a slender young woman moved into the gap that had been created.

"I'm Josie," she grinned, seeing the two little boys peeking out from under the silver-haired man. Nodding at the man, she held out her hands. "Let me take them out, sir. Then we can get you and -"

"My daughter, Kate," Don said, relief filling his heart even as the scent of sandalwood faded as the outside air rushed in. Don hadn't realized how stifling their safety hole had become until now.

"We'll get you both out," Josie assured him. "But let's get the boys first."

"Go with the lady," Don assured his oldest grandson, even as he handed DJ over. Jason looked doubtful.

"She's recusing us?" Jason asked.

"Rescuing," Don corrected. "Yes, she is."

"She's not a Thunderbird," Jason argued.

Josie Gage laughed. "Nope. We only call them in for the big rescues. An easy one like this we can handle."

Jason shrugged. Yeah, that made sense.

The paramedic handed her charges off to her captain, who ferried them to her partner where Bill Simpson was waiting near the ambulance.

"OK, you next," Josie said to Don.

Don shook his head and gestured to his ankle. Josie almost groaned when she saw a piece of concrete and steel pinning him to the debris. Putting on a false smile, she called over her shoulder for a back board.

"Alright, let's get the lady out," Josie said as she wormed further into the gap.

Another firefighter got as far in as he could, muttering, "Gage, how can you get in there?"

"Clean living," Josie muttered in return as she slipped the board under Kate and secured the other woman after having placed a c-collar around her neck.

"Nah," DeSoto's voice came from outside. "Her father could get in situations like that. Dad was always going on about it. It's genetic. Just make sure her helmet stays on this time, ok?"

Josie grinned, her face more gray than the coppery tone it usually was thanks to the cement dust. "That's genetic as well."

Kate was pulled from their prison and Josie began to examine where Don was pinned. Quickly coming to a decision, she yelled out the hole, "Get that guy with the phone, Cap! I need some insight."

Voices and hurried movements came in and within a few minutes Charlie was outside.

"Don!"

"Hey, Buddy," Don gave a shaky laugh. "Wanna cover for me with the wife? I may be late tonight for the party."

"You better not be," Charlie warned. "My wife has been working on this for months."

"Mister?" Josie called out. "Do you still have that guy on the phone? The one with the sat data?"

"Yes," Charlie called back. "Do you want to talk to Alan?"

Even as Josie yelled that she did, Don froze. Seriously? His life was in the hand of a recent college graduate, thousands of miles away? He knew the kid was resourceful but…

DeSoto passed the phone in to his subordinate.

"Hi," Josie began. "This is paramedic Josie Gage. Can you still access that satellite data?"

"_That's affirmative," _Alan said. _"What do you need to know?"_

"Can you skype with me?"

"_Look down," _Alan quipped.

Josie shook her head as she saw a slender blonde looking out from the screen. Damn. He was good.

"OK," the paramedic began, holding out the phone. "You've been right so far. Want to tell me how to not make me into firefighter pancake?"

"_Dad," _Alan called out. Josie nearly dropped the phone when Jeff Tracy appeared in the screen.

"_There," _Jeff said after examining the scene. "_Raise that area – NO! The one to your left."_

Biting her lip, Josie wedged under the cement where she had been instructed, willing herself not to freeze when the cement groaned. Giving it a bit more force, both she and Don sighed in relief when his foot came loose.

Josie had begun to smile until she heard a sound. Grabbing Don by the shoulders, she pushed him out ahead of her, screaming, "Go, go, go!"

All around the accident scene, witnesses began to scream as the cement settled further, raising a cloud of dust.

Closer to the actual collapse, Josie leaned back in the arms of her captain with a sigh before standing up to begin to help her partner with their injured. "Hey, Cap?" she called, even as she knelt next to her partner and began her exam of Don.

"Yeah?"

"Any chance of this not getting back to my Dad?"

"Not likely, young lady," a new, gruff, voice said.

Josie looked behind where Charlie was still standing, holding his two great nephews in an attempt to comfort the boys and groaned.

Captain DeSoto nodded to his father – and Josie's – before calling out, "Will you two get back behind the lines? You're supposed to be retired."

"Don't look at me son," a white haired laughing man yelled back, slapping the slender silver-haired man next to him on the shoulder. "Just trying to keep Junior here out of trouble, like I have been for years."

Charlie turned around and nodded at the two men before they could turn away. "They saved their lives. My brother, my niece," Charlie kissed each of the boys' heads. "These two, I – they're your children?"

The older man smiled, his blue eyes almost hidden by the wrinkles. "My boy is the captain and Johnny's youngest is the one with more gray than black in her hair at the moment." Nudging his friend, he laughed. "And I thought Josie gave you the gray hairs."

"You were firefighters, too? And now your children are?"

The slimmer man stilled. "Are you going to question how we could lead our children into such a dangerous profession?"

Thinking of how Kate was once an FBI agent, just like Don, and of the entire Tracy family being International Rescue, Charlie clutched his nephews even closer, knowing that one or both might follow similar paths.

"No," Charlie whispered. "No, that I get. But – thanks. Thank you for teaching them that kind of courage."

Charlie turned away, moving closer to his brother and niece, smiling when he saw Kate begin to stir under the ministrations of the paramedics.

"Huh," the older man said as he and his friend walked away. "Not a lot of civilians get it, do they Junior?"

"Nope, Pally – not a lot of them do."

* * *

><p>Back on Tracy Island, the gathered family took a deep sigh of relief.<p>

"Dad, I'm coming back down," Scott said firmly.

"Of course," Jeff said, running a hand through his graying hair. "Maybe…no, he has to go to a conference…or…"

"Or we can use the remote for a week or so," Sarah said firmly. "Brains has that conference and the family needs to be together."

"OK, so…" Alan mused, seeing his father agreeing with Sarah. "I'll head up to Three to get Scott. Gordo – you grab Julie and take her to Auckland to get Emily. It takes an hour to get to Three and an hour back. So if you leave now, I'll be right behind you. Take the scenic route," he mused, referring to what the boys called the Auckland route when they wanted or needed to kill some time. When I get back with Scott, you follow, and John can take Emily and Scott to Kate in LA. Does that cover everything?"

Virgil looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow before he blurted out, "Since when have you become a strategist?"

Alan smirked as he headed to his portrait. "Growing up with you guys as the elders? A needed skill. I just finally calmed down enough to use it."

Gordon quickly left through the main door and Sarah held out a hand to cup her husband under the chin.

"I always warned you, Virg – Alan had the potential to out think you. Be afraid be very afraid."

That said, the redhead turned and walked away.

"So should we be afraid?" Virgil joked.

John looked thoughtful, thinking of the coincidence of so much threatening their family in so short a time. Was Alan's earlier paranoia right?

"Of Alan? No," John finally allowed. "But of something? I'm not sure."

John left the room to pack light bags for the soon to be travelers, letting Virgil and Jeff to mull over his words and wonder…

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - So yes, the two older men were Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage of Emergecy. Chris was established as Roy's son and when the show ended, Johnny was still a bachelor. But I gave him a family because he really deserved one. Gary Walker was an LAPD officer - I promoted him to Captain - who worked several times with the Eppes on Numb3rs. **_

_**Enjoy the early update. Not sure when chapter eight will be up, may be about a week or so. Both the hubby and I have birthdays next week, so we actually have plans. Take care!**_


	8. Chapter 8

**THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY**

_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here.**_ _**I would not, could not own them on a lake, I could not bake them in a cake...Have them pop out of the cake? Happy Birthday to me!**_

* * *

><p>John Tracy had just signed off from speaking with the control tower at LAX and started prepping to descend to the busy airport, so he was noticeably startled when his wife sat down next to him.<p>

"Emmy," John sighed. "I'm starting to descend. Couldn't you tell?"

Emily smiled at him. "I figured I had a second. Thought you might want an update?"

"On your patient out back or the ones in Los Angeles?" John muttered.

"Kate is stable and resting at Cedar Sinai," Emily began, choosing to ignore John's comment. "The boys were released to Charlie and Amita Eppes, while Don Eppes was released to his wife. As for your brother," she sighed, lowering her voice, "he hasn't spoken since he boarded the plane. Did he say anything with Alan on Three?"

John shook his head. "No. And that scares me."

Emily frowned. "Don't you mean that worries you?"

Chuckling darkly, John shook his head once more. "Nope," he responded, popping the "p" as he did. "A yelling Scott is normal. Quiet Scott? That's scary. That means he is so angry he can't speak. Whoever is responsible for this better stay the hell out of big brother's way. Because I don't think any of us could hold him back."

* * *

><p>Edward Eppes handed a chart off to a nurse with a small smile and took his seat once more. He was supposed to be off on paternity leave at the moment, but until Emily Tracy arrived, there was no way he was leaving his cousin in anyone else's care.<p>

Taking Kate's hand in his, wary of the IV, Edward reached his other hand out to gently brush at Kate's long black hair. His wife, Ellen, had come in long enough to help get Kate settled and had even put most of Kate's hair in a braid but a few strands had come loose.

"It was always like that," Edward murmured.

"Falling out of however she pulls it back? Yeah, it was."

Edward looked up at the new voice to see FBI Special Agent Daria Delgado enter the room. He smirked when he saw she was already wearing maternity smocks, something he knew from Kate that she had fought as long as she could with her first pregnancy.

Daria stood at the end of the bed and looked worriedly at her best friend. "How is she?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

Edward shook his head. "She was lucky. Really. Kate has a concussion and a cut on the back of her head that bled pretty freely. We had to cut some hair there, but she can work around it until it grows back. But no skull fracture, just a bunch of bruises."

After a shaky indrawn breath, Daria nodded. "I saw the scene. I still can't believe the driver was the only fatality. Massive MI, I hear?"

"That's what the early conclusions are," Edward agreed. "We'll have to wait until the autopsy, and, of course, the accident teams. I can't believe how many investigators are involved. Construction company, restaurant insurance company, city, county…you name it, everyone is involved."

"It's the lawyers' world and we just live in it," Daria groused.

Edward looked back at Kate before he stood up and moved towards the window, gesturing at Daria to follow. Once over there, he spoke urgently to her.

"My only worry is something Dad said," Edward whispered.

Daria nodded for him to continue. She knew Charles Eppes had worked with the NTSB and other members of the DC Alphabet Soup on accident reconstructions before as a mathematician so she was interested in the man's input – unofficial or not.

"Dad said that at the angle the truck started in, it looked like the man would have had to turn and head straight on – something someone in the middle of a heart attack, or unconscious from one of that degree, would be unable to manage. In other words…"

"In other words," Daria concluded grimly, "he had a target. Either the restaurant or someone in it. But definitely not an accident."

* * *

><p>Scott and John firmly put Emily between them as they forced their way through the gathered press. Even with the police trying to keep them back, the vultures of the media world circled relentlessly.<p>

"Mr. Tracy…"

"Scott, how do you…"

"John are you here to…"

Ana Nevada placed herself right in the Tracys' pathway.

"Scott, John, Emma…It's so good to see you. Can I get a quick quote?"

"Why?" Emily snarked. "Are you Rita Skeeter?"

At Ana's confused look – and her brother-in-law's surprised one – the physician snicked.

"Oh, come on – she'd be perfect as her! Even JK Rowling would agree."

John chuckled as he began to push past the reporter. Ana made the mistake of reaching out and grabbing him by the arm.

Emily grabbed the journalist's hand and sharply twisted it, getting right in her face.

"Lady, I broke your nose when I was engaged to John. Touch _my_ husband, father of _my_ children, again and I will not be responsible for my actions. And remember – what I break, I don't fix."

Emily stalked off, leaving a stunned Scott and John to catch up with her at the doorway. The trio, after a quick visit to the reception desk, made their way to the elevators. Once in them, John stage whispered to his older brother, "My wife has been hanging with your wife too much."

"I broke her nose before Scott ever met Kate, remember?" Emily quietly threatened before Scott could answer.

Scott simply shook his head. Both of their wives…heck, thinking of Sarah Jane and Tin-Tin, all of the brothers had married scary women.

Something that didn't faze him in the least.

* * *

><p>Edward and Daria continued to quietly talk by the window, trying to make sense of the day's events, when a thought occurred to the surgeon.<p>

"Wait – aren't you still assigned to New York?" Edward asked. "Why are you handling a case in LA?"

Daria sighed. "One, I was testifying at a hearing in San Francisco when this occurred. Two, this isn't a formal investigation, until evidence is produced to allow for one. More of the FBI making sure this wasn't anything personal against two former agents. And three – it involves the Tracy Family and the powers that be are either overly cautious or very scared when dealing with that family."

"They don't scare you, huh?" Edward smirked.

Shaking her head, Daria sighed. "Compared to my family, they are relatively sane."

"Will-hold-you-to-that," Kate mumbled.

Daria and Edward rushed back over to the bed to see Kate's chocolate eyes creep open.

"How you feeling, Cuz?" Edward asked even as he shone a light in her eyes.

Kate frowned at the act, even as she groused, "Like a building fell on me, dumb ass."

"She's fine," Edward and Daria said to each other.

* * *

><p>The Tracys got off the elevator and immediately headed to the room that they had been told was Kate's. A nurse ran from the station to try and head them off.<p>

"I'm sorry," she simpered. "You can't go down that way."

"Miss…" John looked down at her badge. "Sorry, Nurse…Hatchett?"

"Seriously?" Emily muttered, even as John continued to speak.

"That is my sister-in-law's room. Katherine Tracy? This is her husband, Scott, and this is her doctor, Emily Tracy. Neither one is very patient about getting to her. You should move."

Nurse Hatchett pursed her lips. "I'm sorry," the young woman simpered. "I was given strict instructions…"

"To ask for IDs and call for security if need be," a new voice said. A Hispanic woman in her early thirties glared at the other nurse as she stepped forward. "And since I am the senior nurse on staff and I acknowledged them as they got here, what makes you think I don't know my job?"

"Hello, Sophia," Emily said warmly, making both brothers recall that Emily had briefly worked at this hospital.

"Hello, Dr. Haas," the nurse began before blushing and correcting herself. "I'm sorry, Dr. Tracy. It's nice to see you again. Dr. Eppes is with his cousin. He's refused to leave her since she came in. But he really is supposed to be home with Ellen and the baby."

"Well," Emily smiled as she guided the two men to the door. "Let's get him home, shall we?" Even as she pushed the door open to let in her brother-in-law, Emily glanced at the offending nurse with a raised eyebrow before catching Sofia's attention again. The older nurse simply nodded, assuring Emily it would be dealt with. Nurse Hatchett was about to learn, not upsetting a doctor – even one no longer on staff – was not a good move, career wise, for a nurse.

Daria bit back any questions as she let Edward examine Kate. He had just finished, and she was about to start, when the door to the room popped open, Scott Tracy quickly entering and going straight to his wife.

"Katie," Scott breathed out as he clasped her hand in his and bent down to kiss her forehead.

"Hey, Flyboy," Kate said weakly. "I know, I look a mess."

Tears gathered in Scott's eyes and it was a moment before he could speak. "You look beautiful to me," he finally said as he sat in the chair John guided behind him.

Emily and Edward quickly exchanged pleasantries before he began to review Kate's status with her. Daria stood back, motioning to John in order to let the doctors do their job and Kate and Scott have a moment alone.

"John, some preliminary data has come to light. This may have been a tragic accident, or it may not be. Is there anyone you can think of that hates your family – or either family business – to try and kill Kate and the boys?"

John bit his lip. "One person – the Hood."

Thinking of the man whose mad attempt to murder the Thunderbirds had filled the news stations years ago, the FBI agent frowned. "Isn't he in prison somewhere in Europe?"

"In England," John agreed. "Daria, if it is him, you can't help as a Federal agent."

"Not officially," Daria agreed. "But if he is coming after Kate and her children, even from prison, then this isn't official. It's family. And Kate may not be related by blood or marriage, but she's still family to me."

"Thanks, Dorf," Kate muttered, looking past her husband to where Daria and John thought they had been quietly talking.

"Does she have us all bugged?" John snarked.

"I wouldn't put it past her," Daria agreed but not without smiling at her friend and giving a small nod, letting her know it was personal now. And no one went after their family.

* * *

><p>In Japan, Gina rose from her desk to the small kitchenette off of her office to get the tea her assistant had left for her. Pouring a cup, she began to sip it before turning on the news.<p>

"_Ana Nevada reporting from outside Cedar Sinai in Los Angeles. Minutes ago, Scott Tracy, accompanied by his brother John and that brother's wife, entered the medical facility. Earlier today, Scott's wife Katherine Eppes Tracy, daughter of former FBI Director Don Eppes was involved in a tragedy at a local restaurant when she and her two children were nearly killed by a raging dump truck. The truck's driver, Manuel Aquino, was pronounced dead at the scene from an apparent heart attack. Seventeen other injuries, including the near death of a Tracy wife, were included but so far all news is good."_

Gina's eyes were cold as she picked up the phone.

"Aito, I thought you said one of the Tracys had been killed. I don't care if you couldn't get any closer and no one would say who had died. You have already killed one person by chance. Stop wasting my time before I find someone else to do the job. And Aito? If I do have to find someone else to do the task, you can assure it will be expanded to include you."

* * *

><p>"Where the hell is the driver?" Scott snapped. "He could have killed my family."<p>

"Calm down, Scott," Emily grumbled. "Anger management needed?"

"I wouldn't need to manage my anger if other people could manage their stupidity," Scott snarled. "That driver is going to be dead meat when I get a hold of him."

"He's already dead," Daria said in a soothing tone, trying to think of what else to say. But as she moved closer to Kate, Daria took note of her friend's troubled expression. "Kate? What is it?"

"I – I think I caught a glimpse of his face, the driver's face, just before I fell," Kate admitted.

"What was the expression?" Daria asked. "Angry, determined, what?"

"Confused," Kate said slowly. "Confused and then terrified. As if he had no idea how he had gotten there."

Fear washed over Kate's face. "Scott! The boys, they were in my arms. And Daddy! I heard my father running towards me. Are they ok? Where are they?"

"Relax Kate," Edward assured his cousin. "Uncle Don is at home with Aunt Robin. He has some bruises and a sprained ankle but is otherwise alright. As for the boys, my parents are currently spoiling them rotten. I believe ice cream sundaes and a Disney movie marathon are on the books. Don't be surprised if most of the grandchildren are at the Craftsman tonight."

Emily perused the medical notes and shook her head. "You're lucky you took shelter under that counter, Kate. Just falling gave you enough injuries."

"Counter?" Kate looked confused.

"Uncle Don explained it," Edward said. "According to him, Kate fell after grabbing the boys and hit her head. When he got there, she was unconscious. So since he couldn't escape the truck, Uncle Don got them all under a mini-bar type structure that was also cement. He hoped it would give them enough protection."

"Thank God for that," Scott breathed, even as he kissed his wife's hand again.

"Wait a second," Emily asked. "The In and Out near Cal-Sci? I've been to that one. Isn't it the same area that the "other" family business was at recently? The high rise fire?"

Daria nodded. "Yes. The building was a total loss and the truck was part of the crew clearing the scene."

"That's four – five, actually, with the turning lane –lanes of traffic," Emily mused. "To cross that far – even during a heart attack – an accident just doesn't seem likely."

"Early appraisal is leaning away from an accident," Daria admitted, pulling out her phone. "This is the driver. Does he look familiar to any of you? Does the name Manuel Aquino mean anything to any of you?"

The Tracys – and Edward – all looked at the picture but shook their head. They didn't know him at all.

Slipping her phone back into her bag, cursing the fact that she even needed one due to the fact maternity pants didn't seem to come with adequate pockets, Daria sighed. Grateful that everyone in the room was "in the know" but still conscious that they were in a public place, the FBI agent shook her head.

"I don't know why, but everything in me is screaming that this is no accident, that it was nothing shy of a hit. This is personal."

Kate moved her head, wincing in pain. "John – get the intelligence Lady P and I have gathered. But Dorf – you can't share this with the FBI."

"Especially if it implicates the Hood," Daria guessed. "We can't admit that the sworn enemy of the" she went silent, mouthing "the Thunderbirds" before continuing "has anything to connect with the Tracys."

"If it is him, he's going to wish he had died in that mine," Kate hissed, closing her eyes in pain. "He could have hurt my babies. Take on me, my dad, even Scott – but no one touches my babies."

John and Scott exchanged looks before John saying with uncharacteristic hatred, "Now maybe you and Emily can understand why we feel like we did. He wasn't content to attack those of us who had been on the team when he was hurt. Even hurting Gordon? Well, he was in uniform. But Allie? He was our baby and that monster tried to kill our baby, the last time just because Dad was watching."

Daria nodded. "OK, so the first thing I need to do is make sure this is a case before we try the bad guy. And…"

When Daria didn't speak again, the group waited for a moment before Emily cracked, "Baby sucking out your brain cells already?"

Kate chuckled before wincing, Daria glared and the men remained wisely silent until the agent spoke up again.

"You know, none of this started until Alan got married – to the Hood's niece. Pretty sure the dude, no matter what his relationship is with his brother, wouldn't like that. Could this be connected? Maybe this mystery fake niece is someone who has it out for Alan or Tin-Tin. Do they have any enemies?"

The Tracys looked at each other before Kate answered. "Tin-Tin? I don't think so. Alan? Usually I would say no but there was Jackson Mitchell and Kyle Westcott."

"But Westcott is dead and Mitchell was declared insane and put in a state facility," John countered.

Kate and Emily looked hesitant until their husbands looked at them in surprise. "Katie? Do you know something? Emily?"

Emily sighed as she ran her fingers through her blonde hair. "I've kept a tight watch on Mitchell and I ran some of the info from Westcott's autopsy. There was something in their blood work, something I can't figure out. I've tried to get the state to order weekly blood work on Mitchell, to monitor him…well, more than usual. But without anything concrete, it's like hitting my head against the wall."

"Mitchell in a nut house, the Hood in prison, Westcott dead," Daria rattled off. "Call me paranoid, but I can't help but feel like a character in a film noir, looking for the mysterious fifth man, the evil genius behind the plot."

Kate reached out to grab her husband's hand as did Emily. Both Tracy men looked terrified and no one knew what to say.

"When can I get out of here?" Kate asked, desperate. "We need to get the boys back to the Island."

"Kate," Edward argued. "The family party tonight is cancelled, but Dad says your parents' anniversary is still on for tomorrow. You're being discharged in the morning, if you take it easy, you can be there. It's important to your family."

Before Kate could disagree, Daria spoke up. "She'll be there. And Scott. And John and Emily. And me. And if I know the guest list, there will be so many armed guests, it will be the safest room in town."

Scott leaned down and kissed his wife. "Katie, we'll do this as a family. Besides, your mom will be thrilled I can make it after all."

"Yeah," Edward laughed. "Aunt Robin actually likes you."

Everyone laughed, anxiety released as Scott glared at his cousin by marriage. They were family.

They could deal with this…right?

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - OK, let it out...**_

_**Scott - You nearly crushed my family.**_

_**CC - But I didn't.**_

_**Gordon - You nearly killed Julie and me.**_

_**CC - But I didn't.**_

_**Virgil - Sarah is safe, right?**_

_**CC - No one is safe in this story.**_

_**John - Hey, you already got to Emily in a recent story.**_

_**CC - Yeah, well, this is a new one.**_

_**Alan - I fear I have learned from bitter experience that whatever you guys may suffer, mine will be far worse. So I am showing the wisdom I have gained by growing up, marrying and discovering why you guys like sex so much. And as I would like to continue living - preferably with the sex - I will simply wish CC a very happy birthday.**_

_**CC - That's so sweet Alan...And that is why unlike some authors, I always let you live. Cake anyone?**_


	9. Chapter 9

**The Enemy of my Enemy**

_**_**I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here.**_ _**I would not, could not own them by the gate. I couldn't own them very late...I'm late, I'm late for a very important date, no time to...um sorry. Disney moment there.**_**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

Kate Tracy sat on the couch, surrounded by family, Don not far away with his ankle raised on a hassock. Her brothers, husband and brother-in-law led the charge in making sure the flow of guests moved quickly.

"The boys?" Kate whispered to Emily when the doctor sat beside her.

"The boys are fine, we have games, health kid friendly snacks and music much more to the junior set's liking in the next room," Emily assured her with a huff. "And if I get one more person asking for free medical advice, I'm going to scream. At least if I have to go to hospital fund-raiser, I expect this."

"Tell me about it," Edward sighed as he sat on a foot stool nearby.

"Think about how I feel," Charlie cracked. "People hear Dr. Eppes and start with medical questions until I explain it's in Mathematics. Of course, then they start asking me about their taxes or start complaining how useless high school algebra was."

"There are too many government employees in this crowd," John muttered. "What do you expect?"

The "hey!" from the gathered former and current government employees only made the blonde smirk.

"Um, ex-NASA, right?" Ellen teased. "Doesn't that include you?"

Charlie chuckled at his daughter-in-law's wit. "She got you there."

"Remind me to do a line-by-line budget review of your next R&D project," Kate muttered.

"OK, on that note," John sighed, "I will wisely go get some fresh air. You'll be ok, right, Emmy?"

After Emily "shooed" him away, John took off down the hall to the patio, desperate for some fresh air. He was used to recycled air – he did live half his life on a space station, after all – but he wasn't used to sharing the air with so many others and there had to be close to one hundred people gathered in the "smaller" ballroom of the Omni Los Angeles Hotel. John really didn't know how his father put up with shin dings like this on a regular basis.

Nodding at a tall man with Native American features, John pulled out his phone and called back to the Island.

"Hi, Allie. Yeah, everyone is fine. We'll bring Kate and the boys home tomorrow. Remind…Hey, Little Bit. Um, Daddy needs to talk to Uncle Alan…Of course I want to say hi to Keith, but sweetie, Keith is a baby and not much of a talker yet, ok? Can I talk to your uncle again…Hey, Alan. Yeah. Sure, I'll look over your outline, but your publisher – ok, our publisher – was nuts about the story idea. It will be another best-seller, for sure. What about your second novel? Is it all set to be published at Christmas? Awesome. And…Hi Michael. Yes, your cousins are fine and you can see them when we get back tomorrow. Can I speak to your uncle again? Alan – oh, hi Gordon. No, you weren't the uncle I was supposed to speak with. Oh, yeah. Middle of upgrades, ok. Tell the Sprout to call me with any questions…Dad is working with him? Seriously? Totally grease covered? Please say you took pictures? Julie did? Man, that girl is perfect for you. Don't blow this one, Nemo. Gordon can you…Hey, Virg. No, they're all going to be fine. Emily will bring back…Oh, she already updated the records? Then why are you. Oh. Hi Sarah Jane. Yes, yes I am sure. OK, I have to get back to the party before Em sends a search party out. OK. Give the kids kisses and tell them we'll…Yes, I will make sure Scott doesn't fly. He'd be too distracted. Kate will handle him. Yeah, she is good at that. OK, love you all."

The other man smiled as John slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"Big family?"

John smiled back. "Yeah, can you tell? And no, we don't live all in the same house."

"Just the same island?"

John froze until the man gave a husky chuckle. "Don Eppes and I go way back. He's ranted enough about his son-in-law – and Charlie has said enough good things - for me and my wife to have known to ignore most of it." He held out his hand. "Ian Edgerton – formerly FBI Agent Edgerton."

John vaguely recalled Kate talking about the man. "Kate's mentioned you. And your wife – Nikki?"

Ian froze as his eyes darkened to almost pure black with pain. "Nikki passed away earlier this year of colon cancer. We never had kids, but she sure loved the Eppes kids as if they were her own."

"I'm sorry," John said sincerely. "From Kate's stories, she was a wonderful woman."

"I took everything too seriously, she was an absolute smart ass," Ian smiled in remembrance. "People wondered why we were drawn together and the simple truth was we completed each other. I always said we never needed anyone else, we didn't need kids or anything. Two weeks after she died, I found a stray dog…called it Bettencourt, Nikki's maiden name. Not perfect, but it keeps me sane, just like she did."

"I nearly lost my wife when she had our son," John admitted. "I don't know what I would have done…and I sure don't know what Scott would have done if he had lost Kate or the boys."

"Eppes said it was close," Ian agreed.

"I better go back in and keep big brother calm," John sighed, turning from the glittering LA skyline.

The bullet whistled past his left ear, embedding itself in the wood of the door. John froze, sensing rather than hearing or seeing the next shot he knew was coming…

* * *

><p>Jeff finished washing his hands and face, grimacing as he eyed what had been some serviceable clothes that he usually wore when he was doing work like this. The shirt especially would be lucky if they made it as far as a rag bag. Did Onaha even have a rag bag? He could recall his mother did…<p>

"Alan," Jeff called as he turned around. "Do you know if…Alan?"

Alan looked up, startled. "Sorry, Dad – what?"

Jeff smiled at his youngest son, still a baby in his eyes, as he grabbed a shop cloth to wipe a bit of grease from Alan's chin. "You were a million miles away, Al – want to tell your old man why?"

The blonde shook his head as he sighed. "I just feel I'm missing something Dad. I don't think any of these "accidents" have been accidents. I think it's personal. And I don't just mean the Tracy Family. I mean me."

Grimacing, Jeff put his hands on his son's shoulders. Alan had been disturbed ever since the conference call with John and Daria Delgado the night before.

"Alan, I know Daria proposed it was possible. But think about it, who have you annoyed that much lately?"

Smirking, Alan turned and started walking away, calling over his shoulder, "Gordon. When I suggested that Julie stay in Tin-Tin's old room at her parents' villa. She was going to be staying in Scott's house, which considering they would have all been off the Island would have opened all kinds of opportunities."

Jeff chuckled as he jogged to catch up with his son. He may not have the same argument as before with the older boys – setting a good example for an underage Alan – but he still would prefer to keep things above board.

If only to keep Kate from strangling Gordon. Or shooting him. One or the other.

* * *

><p>John froze, sure that any moment a bullet would hit him.<p>

He wasn't prepared for Ian Edgerton to do the same thing.

Ian tackled John to the ground, muttering, "Stay down. If someone is shooting at you, get the hell out of the way, will you?"

John said nothing, deciding silence was a good choice at the moment.

After making sure John was out of the line of fire, the ex-FBI sniper pulled a gun from a back holster and edged forward. His eyes pierced the night in a way beyond most mortals…

Being a sniper did require good vision.

Seeing a form on a balcony across the street, Ian carefully aimed and fired…

* * *

><p>Kate sat up suddenly.<p>

"Scott?" she gasped. "Did you hear that? I heard gunshots."

"Katie," Robin tried to assure her daughter. "One, it was probably a car backfiring or two, it is Los Angeles."

"And three," Daria said with a grimace as she pulled out her service revolver from a slim purse that somehow held the weapon, "coincidences are overrated."

"Does that woman know she is pregnant?" Ellen asked as she cocked her head, watching as most of the agents – even the retired ones – followed Agent Delgado.

"About as well as these two know they are injured," a grunting Amita Eppes groaned as she held back her niece with her sister-in-law's help.

Don just glared at her. Which considering Ellen and Charlie were sitting on him, it was about all he could do.

Scott Tracy quickly followed Daria, pulling a small gun from his tux coat.

"Do I even want to know where you hid your gun?" Daria muttered.

Scott smirked. "Tailor made suits can be more than made to make you look good."

The FBI agent sighed. Money must be nice.

* * *

><p>Ian smirked in satisfaction at the cry of pain that echoed across the street.<p>

He watched as the man – he was pretty sure that was a male – slunk off into the shadows.

Hearing rapidly approaching footsteps coming from inside, Ian lowered his weapon, glad of that choice when an angry brown-haired man burst onto the scene, taking in the site of John Tracy still on the ground and himself armed.

"You son of a bitch," Scott growled, raising his weapon.

"Scott!" both John and Daria called out, the latter pushing down Scott's gun and the former shakily rose to his feet.

"You ok, Johnny?" Scott asked as he examined his brother.

"Thanks to Agent Edgerton here," John sighed.

"Just Ian," the former sniper said firmly. "I'm retired."

Daria eyed the area, carefully examining the bullet holes in the wall and the weapon in Ian's hand. "Let me get this straight – someone with a rifle, probably with a scope," Ian's nod had her continuing. "Fired at John Tracy, I am guessing, and you shot back with a standard issue sidearm. You probably couldn't make a kill shot with that weapon from this distance and under these conditions - "

"I did wound him," Ian said smugly.

Daria eyed him carefully. "Yoda and Clint Eastwood's Unholy Offspring, indeed."

"Smile when you say that Agent Delgado," Ian smirked.

Daria didn't ask how he knew who she was.

She wasn't sure she wanted to.

Daria turned to the Tracy Brothers, motioning to her fellow law enforcement agents to secure both scenes. "OK, both of you – inside. I think it is becoming clearer that someone has decided its Tracy Hunting Season. The Bureau may not be able to lay claim to the case, but I think I can persuade the powers that be to allow me to help any investigation."

A shaken John and Scott nodded and headed indoors.

Daria turned and looked at Ian. "That's a three hundred foot shot, at night, with a breeze, using a handgun. Seriously?"

"Like I once told the Professor – Being a sniper isn't a job. It's an obsession." With that said, he followed David Sinclair to give his statement.

"Wow," Daria breathed out. "And I thought Kate was scary."

* * *

><p>"What the Hell!" Emily gasped as her slightly bedraggled husband re-entered the ballroom, his older brother still clutching a gun by his side.<p>

"Scott Carpenter Tracy, where did you get that gun?" Emily asked, even as she began a quick check of John.

"Where were you?" John asked with a lop-sided grin. "I half expected you behind the Smother Hen, swinging your stethoscope in my defense."

"Emily was meeting Trey, who, by the way," Edward laughed towards Scott, "was a huge hit with your sons. Jason is considering asking his mother for another sibling."

Kate rolled her eyes, overhearing her cousin as they approached. "With Alan married and Gordon engaged, I can promise him cousins soon enough. That should satisfy him."

"You still haven't answered my question," Emily snapped, her eyes narrowing. "Either of you."

"We are getting out of town, tonight," Scott said quietly.

"That was gunshots, wasn't it?" Kate asked, pale.

"Gunshots?" Emily gasped. "Someone _shot _at my husband?" Her gentle features hardened as she eyed Daria, David and Ian entering the room. "Where is the son of a bitch and you better have killed him."

"I like her," Ian said cheerfully.

"Agent Edgerton wounded the man," Daria offered up. "We have alerts out at all area hospitals."

"You bring your rifle to formal events?" Charlie asked, his eyes wide.

"Handgun," Daria said, eying the man cautiously. "You aren't supposed to be able to hit a target at three hundred feet."

Ian shrugged. "I may have made a few modifications since my retirement."

Scott took the evidence bagged weapon and looked it over. "Huh. Nice add ons. Not exactly street legal."

Smirking, Ian shrugged again. "Kept your brother alive."

Looking at his family, Scott shrugged as well. "I'm calling the airport. We aren't waiting until tomorrow…"

"Yes we are," Kate said firmly. "We are not dragging the boys out of here in a panic. We took rooms here in case they got tired and so we could leave right from the hotel without heading back to Pasadena. Uncle David – can some security vehicles be borrowed to get us to the airport?"

David nodded. "Consider it done. I've called it in. There will be someone outside of your suite until you leave."

Don grabbed his daughter's hands. "Just get back to that Island, Katie Bear. You should be safe there."

"I don't know who is targeting our family," Kate hissed. "But they are going to regret it."

"Get in line," Emily snapped, her midnight blue eyes hard as rocks, with shots of fire popping up in the middle.

Daria eyed the tiny blonde cautiously. OK, now for a second person as scary if not more so than Kate Tracy.

* * *

><p><strong>SEVERAL HOURS LATER<strong>

"Aito," Gina said calmly. "Did you make a mistake?"

Aito bowed at Gina on the vid-phone.

"I had unexpected difficulties." Aito explained. "But I honestly thought I had the correct contact. He looked like your old friend."

"Yes," Gina allowed. "There is a strong family resemblance there." Gina smirked. "And perhaps my old friend will let his guard down. I am going to take advantage of this. Rest up from your mishap – we are fortunate that we have people who owed us in the area. Make sure all of your business supplies are in the case. Sato's brother – Daiki – will stop and pick up the bundle. He is still working for the diplomatic corps, yes?"

"Yes," Aito agreed. "He has been most helpful."

Aito signed off, grateful to still be alive.

Gina pulled out another file and smiled as she tapped it to her chin. Placing it aside, she prepared another call. An anonymous source would soon contact the FBI, warning them that Susan Haas was a dangerous woman…

The woman really shouldn't have made it so easy for Gina.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - How much worse can I make this...**

**Well, I had a stressful couple of days. Let's see what kind of chaos I can take from there...**


	10. Chapter 10

**THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY**

_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here. I could not own them in the dirt, this chapter is late because my wrist I did hurt.**_

_**SO - it's also short.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

Daria Delgado was relieved to be back in New York, but at the same time a bit frustrated. Somehow, the FBI – and the Tracy Family – expected her to run an investigation that had taken place in France and California while in New York.

After the party began to break up, Daria had been briefed once more at LA FBI HQ before grabbing a midnight flight back east. She hadn't even been home yet, not wanting to disturb her husband and son at four in the morning.

When the phone on her desk rang, Daria didn't even glance at it as she answered. "Delgado."

"_A lesser man would think you no longer found me sexy."_

Daria laughed. "Tony, you are still so hot, you shouldn't be allowed at fire scenes."

"_Considering I'm an arson investigator, that would be bad."_

"You still off today?"

"_Planned on it, so I could spend some time with my wife after we dropped Junior here off at pre-school."_

Daria glanced at her watch and groaned. "You're dropping him off now, aren't you? Babe, I'm so sorry."

"_I'll pick you up in thirty. You need to rest. You don't want to end up on bed rest, do you?"_

Smirking, Daria turned off her computer. "How much rest will I get with you at home?"

"_It's a work in progress, ok?"_

Daria laughed and let her husband go just as she answered another line with a stifled sigh.

"Delgado."

"_I was told you were the agent in charge of an investigation I may have information on."_

Daria sat up straighter, grabbing a pen and paper. "Which investigation?"

"_Someone took a shot at John Tracy, didn't they? In Los Angeles?"_

Glancing at the phone, Daria saw the caller ID indicate a 617 area code. Boston, if she recalled correctly.

"_I can't say much more over the phone. I'm heading to New York tonight, can I meet with you there? I could be in a lot of trouble otherwise."_

Daria agreed to meet the woman, who had given her name as Monica Bates, and a contact phone number. Greg, her former partner before she was made a division head, came in just as she was leaving.

"Hey, how was La-La land?" Greg smirked.

"Smoggy," Daria grimaced. Handing Greg the notepad she had just written on, she nodded. "Trace that number and get me all the info you can on this caller. Send me the inetl; I will be meeting her at a diner tomorrow at 0800. Oh, and plan to be my backup, I'm not taking chances if this is what I think it is."

Greg raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Besides, Daria was already at the elevator and the phone on his own desk was ringing.

Time to get to work.

* * *

><p>Emily slid into the seat next to her husband.<p>

"If I had my way, you wouldn't be flying this morning either," the physician muttered.

"Kate's concussed, Scott's too distracted and Jason's legs can't reach ground - yet," John shrugged.

Emily shook her head. She hoped he was joking about Jason.

Then again…

"John, we can't all just hide on the Island," Emily said calmly.

"Well, we can at least not go anywhere alone," John responded. "So someone will escort you or Sarah to the clinic. The rest of us can telecommute, at least for now."

"I don't like this, John," Emily sighed.

John reached over and clutched his wife's hand. "Me either. But this has all the marks of our family being targeted. And until we find out who, we have to play it safe."

"I just can't imagine anyone hating us that much," Emily said fretfully.

John looked sad for a minute. "Until the day the Hood invaded our Island, I never could either. But it's haunted my dreams ever since then."

"Promise me we'll all be alright?" Emily whispered.

Pulling her hand to his lips, John kissed her wedding band. "I promise."

Both of them knew that the request was unreasonable and the vow nearly impossible to keep. But it comforted the couple as they continued their journey home.

* * *

><p>Gina flipped through the pictures of Alan Tracy's family once more. In every picture she could see the silent protective stance so many of them took. Even if the FBI took the bait, would they allow Alan to be somewhere alone so she could get him?<p>

Picking up the phone, she reached another contact.

"I would like to start to make arrangements to have my package transported from England. Yes, I am aware this could take several months. One thing at a time. Yes, I will need the first two shipments but not the third. Have that one disposed of as you see fit."

After hanging up, Gina re-filed the Hood's and Mullion's files in the "active" drawer but set Transom's in the "in-active", purring "Too many cooks and all, right?"

* * *

><p>Alan ran to meet the plane, at the door as soon as it opened.<p>

"Uncle Allie!" Jason yelled, running right towards him.

Alan kissed and tickled the little boy he had delivered and hugged him close.

"I am not getting in that damn thing!"

Alan's head whipped around and he forced his laugh back at the sight of Emily holding out a wheelchair that Kate was glaring at while Scott remained wisely silent, holding his youngest son as John got the luggage.

"Immovable object meet unstoppable force," he whispered to his father who had come up behind him and was now standing – wisely – to the distance of the conflict.

The stand-off ended when Emily pulled out a needle and nodded once.

Kate hastily got into the wheelchair.

"OK, let me check over Kate," Emily said cheerfully as she wheeled her sister-in-law away. "Where are Sarah and Virgil?"

"They're in Auckland," Alan said, watching as Scott and John trailed off after their wives and Jeff took over for DJ. "Virgil is covering for John at the project meeting and Sarah is standing in for Emily at the Clinic's Board Meeting."

"I'm going to owe her one, won't I?" Emily sighed.

"According to Sarah Jane," Jeff said cheerfully, "you're gonna owe her a BIG one. It's the semi-annual budget meeting."

"Damn," Emily groaned.

* * *

><p>Corrine Transom sat alone once more in the dining room at Bronzefield's Women's Prison. It wasn't unusual for the woman to be alone. She always acted aloof, not in the defensive way so many other prisoners were, but in that annoying "I'm better than you and you should know it " kind of way.<p>

A book on Kafka was open in front of her as she sipped at her tea. Soon she would be headed to a meeting with her attorney. The man thought he could get her transferred – she hoped closer to Wakefield. The Hood needed her.

Looking up, Transom saw it was nearly top of the hour, so she stood up and headed to the hallway. It wouldn't do not to be on time.

Transom never saw the figure in the shadows until her hair was grabbed in one hand and a homemade knife, secure in the other hand, came up in front of her eyes.

"Your usefulness is at an end," a voice whispered in her ear.

One thing must be said about a clean cut across your jugular with a sharp blade – you really don't feel much pain if it was done correctly.

And it was done correctly.

* * *

><p>Sarah Tracy smiled politely and shook the hand of another board member, grinding her teeth as she did. For the love of God, she really didn't know how Emily put up with some of these people. While most of the other board members were earnest in their desire to be helping the community, some just wanted the tenuous connection to the Tracys.<p>

"Sarah?"

The redhead turned and nodded at the receptionist, Lilly Evans, who Emily had gleefully snaked from the hospital when they had first opened the clinic.

Seeing the Physician's Assistant turn to her, Lilly nodded back, saying, "Your husband is on the phone."

Smiling, Sarah asked, "Can you transfer it to my…no, wait, Emily's office? I want to gather up the mail to take back to her. She should have brought Kate and the boys to the Island by now."

Lilly nodded again and Sarah headed back to Emily's office. When the phone rang, Sarah picked it up and smiled again.

"Hey, Gorgeous," she purred.

Virgil laughed. "Whatever happened to the shy little girl from down the road?"

"She grew up, lost some weight, the glasses and the braces and found herself a sex-god of a husband." Sarah laughed quietly as she could practically feel her husband blush.

"Sarah! I'm still in the conference room," Virgil hissed.

Sarah laughed louder. "We're not on speaker phone again, are we?"

Virgil sighed. "No, I learned my lesson on that back when you were pregnant with Michael."

Shrugging, Sarah began to thumb through the accumulated mail, tossing most of it into a box to take back to Emily. "I can't help it if being pregnant increased my sex drive. It's hormonal."

"Still," Virgil groaned. "It was months before I could look my father or Anne Marie in the eye."

Chuckling again, Sarah picked up a manila envelope with a New York return address. The address was mostly smudged but the cancellation mark was clear that it had been mailed from Manhattan – Sarah recognized it from the time she was studying advance techniques under Tony Delgado with the New York Fire Department. Sarah absently wondered if he was still happy since he had transferred to Arson Investigation last month. The hours had to be better

"Huh," Sarah murmured before she brightened. "Hey, I bet this is the packet Em was expecting from New York Presbyterian."

"How gloriously exciting," a snide voice drawled.

Sarah turned to see Dr. Richard Sommers standing in the doorway. With a sigh, she set the phone on the desk.

"Dr. Sommers," Sarah said with a forced smile. "Emily told me you were starting your community service this week."

"It's not community service," Sommers snapped.

"No, it's Dr. Tracy pulling your ass out of the fire by having you do work at the clinic after that intern refused to be awed by you after you sexually harassed her," Sarah snapped in return. Stalking over to the file cabinet, she opened the middle drawer.

"Here are your assignments for the week. Emily will be in tomorrow, but you need to familiarize yourself with the clinic. These are the cases you will be seeing this week. And if either Dr. Tracy or I hear of you - "

Richard Sommers had already begun to tune Sarah Tracy out. After all, Tracy wife or not, she wasn't a doctor, like him. Physician Assistant? More like glorified nurse, in his opinion. Picking up the package on the desk, he started to play with the seal. Getting in on this program might not be such a bad thing after all, considering the star quality of the doctors who volunteered for it.

Suddenly, the package in his hands blew, the letter bomb having been triggered when the seal opened enough, shattering Dr. Sommers' plans – along with Richard Sommers – and Emily Tracy's office became engulfed in flames…

Over by the file cabinet, Sarah Tracy lay ominously silent.

* * *

><p>AN - You guys did want me to hurt other Tracys, right?


	11. Chapter 11

**The Enemy of My Enemy**

_**Disclaimer -_** I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here. I XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.**_**_

_**_**The remainder of this disclaimer has been redacted by the United States Government, Writer's Protection Division.**_**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

Virgil Tracy smirked as he listened to his firebrand of a wife go head to head with Dr. Richard "Rico Suave" Sommers. He had heard Emily grouse about the man, how the plastic surgeon's latest screw up being chasing after a surgical intern – one who made it clear she was not interested. When he was introduced to the woman's girlfriend, the nasty comments he made had the intern filing a formal complaint.

Emily, at the request of the hospital board – several of whom were also on the board of the clinic – had agreed to work out an appropriate punitive action for Dr. Sommers, which would meet an agreement they had with the intern in order to avoid a lawsuit. So for the next two years, Richard Sommers would work at the clinic, pro-bono, one week out of the month. Virgil knew Emily had cases already lined up, seeing as plastic surgeons were the hardest to donate their time.

Holding back a chuckle, Virgil once more paid attention to his wife's words, faint, but clear through the phone. From the sounds of a file drawer being opened, Virgil could guess Sarah was in Emily's office.

Emily shared Jeff Tracy's need for paper charts. Oh, she used computers and data pads, but the emergency medical specialist liked having paper charts for back-up.

"_Here are your assignments for the week. Emily will be in tomorrow, but you need to familiarize yourself with the clinic. These are the cases you will be seeing this week. And if either Dr. Tracy or I hear of you - "_

A loud explosion had Virgil almost dropping the phone. Even as his ears were ringing, Virgil was terrified to realize that he could now hear the sounds of flames – but not the sound that he desperately wanted to hear: the sound of Sarah's voice.

"Sarah?" he cried out, ignoring the other businessmen and engineers. "SARAH JANE!"

* * *

><p>Susan Haas entered the elegant home she had lived in with her husband for years. It had been in her mother's family for years and when she had married, her mother and stepfather had signed it over to the newlyweds. Here they had brought home their son, Roderick, and later, their daughter, Emily. Here was where she had planned to gracefully age, where they would celebrate their children's achievements and then their own marriages and finally, she would have grandchildren to surround her, allowing the cycle to continue.<p>

But somewhere along the way, things had gone wrong. Most of them sprung from Emily. Her daughter had grown into an ethereal beauty, looking exactly like Gerald's late mother, Elizabeth. But a woman was not supposed to be so damnably clever, caring more for her studies than her social standings and family obligations. Susan had pushed, Emily had pushed back, until the girl was living in the wilds of New Zealand of all places. Of course, Susan had demanded the girl return and had even threatened to disown her. It was an empty threat, seeing as Susan's father, Dr. Daniel Hebert, had left what had turned out to be a considerable estate to his granddaughter. But still…

Then Emily had coolly informed Susan that she was in love and planning on marrying "a writer who lives on a nearby island with his family". Furious, Susan had the paperwork disowning Emily sent to her daughter. Emily had responded with her own lawyer submitting paperwork that allowed the physician to cut all ties with her birth family and block them from contacting her, her unnamed future spouse or any potential children.

A few weeks later, Susan was shocked to see the proclamation in the society pages – "Jeff Tracy announces the engagement of son John to Dr. Emily Haas". All of her attempts to contact her daughter had failed. Shortly after the wedding notice appeared, Susan decided to focus on Roderick. Her son married a lovely debutante – something Emily had refused to become – and settled in their own suite of rooms in this very house. Even when word came to her that Emily was soon to give birth to her first grandchild, Susan ignored it – Roddy and Melissa had married in a high society wedding of the year and would give her grandchildren – ones she could proudly claim.

But even as Emily gave birth to the first Tracy grandchild, all the more remarkable for being reportedly the first Tracy granddaughter in eight generations, and Jeff Tracy added daughter-in-laws (none with Emily's pedigree) and those women gave birth to more grandchildren, the rooms designated as a nursery remained painfully empty. First, Melissa struggled to become pregnant, then lost her first baby. She became pregnant again but lost that baby at the half-way point.

Then came the surgery that removed any chance of a child by Melissa.

Susan subtly hinted that perhaps the marriage should not continue.

It took everything Gerald could do to keep Roderick from moving out after that.

Roderick and Melissa had made several inquiries into adoption or even finding a surrogate. Susan knew they were leaning towards a surrogate, hoping that Susan would find a child of her own bloodlines to be more acceptable. Please – who knew what kind of woman would agree to be a "rent-a-womb"?

However, Emily had produced two healthy children – Elizabeth and Keith. Jeff Tracy now had six grandchildren, with his other two sons married or engaged, so more would surely follow. Susan continued efforts to reach out to her daughter, to show her what she could offer her children…Emily continued to ignore her.

Emily's near death following the birth of her son made Susan think the chance of getting access – perhaps even custody – of her grandchildren were possible. But if anything, the discovery that Susan had hidden from Emily – for her daughter's own good, truly! – that silly little heart valve defect, had alienated them all the more.

Susan remained undeterred. She didn't care what the latest lawyer said. _"Grandparents have no real rights," the man had said. "At least not under these circumstances."_

"_What if something happened to Emily and her husband?" Susan had asked as she had_ _sipped her tea in the Manhattan restaurant. At the man's shocked look, she had sighed._

"_Please, I am not asking you to hire a hit man," Susan sneered. "But Emily nearly died giving birth to her son. She still has a heart condition, apparently. Life happens. What would my chances be of gaining full custody of my grandchildren if Emily did die?"_

_The lawyer removed his glasses, cleaning them with a handkerchief, obviously trying to gain his thoughts._

"_If Emily Tracy were to die, you might be able to find a sympathetic judge who could order visitations for you. But considering John Tracy lives in what is practically a small village, his father, his brothers and their families all there to help care for the children, it would be a long shot."_

"_What if both my daughter and her husband were unavailable?"_

_Pursing his lips, the man shrugged. "Your odds would improve. But I can't say for sure. Jeff Tracy -"_

"_Jeff Tracy, Jeff Tracy, Jeff Tracy!" Susan snarled. "I'm sick to death of that man. He has four other grandchildren! His youngest son just got married to some native girl so I am sure she will be popping out children on a regular basis. And I read that Gordon Tracy is marrying some French tramp. I'm sure she'll produce children to ensure her share of the Tracy fortune."_

_The attorney didn't bother to correct that Tin-Tin Tracy was an honors graduate of MIT and Julie Maxwell was actually American. Susan obviously couldn't care less._

"_I'll only have Elizabeth and Keith as grandchildren," Susan passionately continued. "They are part of a rich legacy that the Tracys are denying them! What do they know about the heritage of my family? They are one generation from being farmers!"_

_The lawyer finished his meal and leaned forward. "Susan, I'd advise you to try a softer approach. Reach out to your daughter. Because as long as she maintains she wants nothing to do with you, especially you having nothing to do with her children, you would be throwing your money away to pursue this in court."_

_Susan had left the high end Manhattan restaurant frustrated but more determined than ever..._

And she was still determined today. Susan Haas deserved to have grandchildren, true blood heirs to pass down her heritage to.

Pulling out the pictures of her grandchildren she had paid a great deal of money for, Susan tenderly traced their features.

"Never fear, my little loves. Grandmama will make sure we all get what we deserve."

* * *

><p>Alan Tracy didn't spare a glance at his father, even when Jeff addressed him.<p>

"Alan – what exactly did Virgil say?"

In Alan's mind, he could still hear his brother's terrified words.

"_Alan! Sarah – it's Sarah Jane. The clinic...Alan I could hear an explosion and then I could hear fire. But I couldn't hear Sarah again. It's – oh, God. Alan. I can't get there fast enough. The clinic is on the other side of the city and traffic is at a standstill. The airport – the clinic is near the airport, Alan!"_

Hearing his father say his name over and over, Alan gritted his teeth. "There's apparently been an explosion of some kind at the clinic. I've confirmed it with emergency services. They wouldn't say anything over the phone which is why I haven't called Virgil back. I need to know first...I need to know."

"You need to know what," Jeff said, his face pale with fear for the girl he had loved as a daughter since she was six.

Alan swallowed hard, focusing on flying the plane far faster than it should have gone.

"They let slip – there was one fatality. I need to know if it was Sarah Jane."

Jeff closed his eyes in pain, praying his middle son would not discover the heartbreak that he himself had know – losing the love of his life.

* * *

><p>Virgil Tracy sat silently as the car he was riding in, driven by Ann-Marie's nephew, Brian Thompson, edged through the traffic before finally being stopped.<p>

A policeman leaned in. "Gentlemen, I'm sorry, but you'll need to go around..."

"Like hell," Virgil snarled only for Brian to quickly explain.

"The explosion – it was at the Tracy Charitable Clinics Headquarters', correct?" The officer nodded, unsure where Brian was going.

Brian hastily continued. "This is Virgil Tracy, his wife Sarah Tracy was working there today. He was on the phone with her when the explosion occurred and he hasn't been able to raise her since."

The officer nodded, asking Virgil for ID which he quickly provided.

"Mr. Tracy, if you'll get out of the car, I'll have an officer escort you to the scene. You must understand – we are looking at a possible terrorist attack, so we are limiting access."

"I understand," Virgil sighed, knowing they had done similar things for accident scenes under International Rescue. "But please – can we hurry?"

Nodding again, the officer radioed in the situation and soon another policeman, one on a motorcycle pulled up. Handing Virgil a helmet he had appropriated, the motorcycle cop soon had the frantic husband rushing to find his wife.

* * *

><p>A small privatized landing strip lined the back of the airport. Unlike the active Auckland Airport, this was smaller and mainly used by business flights. But this landing strip was used only by the Tracys, either with work for the Charitable Trust or business.<p>

OK, and the occasional pleasure.

But for now, Alan could quickly land and dash through a small area that Emily frequently used to head straight from the airport to the clinic, either for supplies or visiting doctors. It was quick, it was efficient...

And since most people didn't know about it, it was not guarded by the police lining the streets.

Alan had almost made it all the way to the burning clinic itself – easily outpacing his father and showing why he would have been a real contender for the Olympics – before a fireman stopped him.

"Hold it, buddy!" the fireman exclaimed.

"Please!" Alan cried out. "My sister is in there! Please!"

"Alan!" Lilly Evans, her face streaked with soot, ran up to him. She had met him years ago when the then Emily Haas was dating John Tracy and had kept up the acquaintance with him, as he had frequently flown in with both of his sisters-in-law.

"Lilly," Alan breathed out, grabbing her arms. "Sarah...Where's Sarah?"

Smiling, Lilly pulled him towards a waiting ambulance, where Alan saw the most beautiful thing ever...

A living, breathing Sarah Tracy.

"Sarah?" Alan gently said as his hands gently ghosted over her bruised face.

Sarah's emerald green eyes blinked open. "Allie?" she murmured from under an oxygen mask.

Alan softly took her hand and kissed it, quickly glancing back at the fire and blinking back tears. "I thought...I thought that this time..."

"Thought the fire got me this time, baby? Not gonna happen," Sarah breathed out. "I'm gonna live a long time and spoil your babies, got it?"

Jeff Tracy pushed his way forward just as a man with a clipboard approached as well.

"What do you mean, Mrs. Tracy? The fire getting you again?" the man asked.

"And who are you?" Jeff snapped, not wanting bad memories to haunt his daughter.

Sarah pulled down the mask, and smiled at Jeff before explaining. "It's ok, Dad. This is Gene Freehly. He's a fire investigator. I told him it seemed like a bomb. He knows I used to be a firefighter. But he didn't know – _cough _– about _–cough –_ Kansas."

Alan quickly, with a paramedic's approval, gave Sarah small sips of water from a bottle he was handed. Jeff took the opportunity to explain.

"Sarah grew up down the road from our family when we all lived in Kansas. When she was sixteen, there was a fire in her family's home. Sarah was badly injured and the rest of her family was killed."

"Was that some kind of explosion as well?" Freehly asked.

Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes and Jeff was about to tell the man to go to hell when Sarah shook her head.

"No. My – my sister. She was high on something. She set fire to my bedroom – specifically all around my bed while I was sleeping. I woke up screaming, which in turn, woke my parents. They tried to get to me...my sister had been standing in the doorway, watching. I tried to get to them...I wrapped myself in a thick afghan Grandma Tracy had made for me...But all I did was get burned. I collapsed near the window. Luckily for me, some off-duty volunteer firefighters had been helping paint a friend's house when they were driving by with a ladder in their truck. They got me out. I was burned over ninety percent of my body, a lot of it second or third degree. This," she gestured at her face and body, "is the result of time, therapy and a plastic surgeon who supposedly donated his time to Shriners when he actually doesn't even take insurance."

The last was said with a fond smile at Jeff, who had the good grace to blush at having been caught. When Sarah's voice became ragged, Jeff gently replaced the oxygen mask and finished the story.

"They found Sarah's parents in the upstairs hallway and her sister at the bottom of the stairs. She had fallen, presumably running down the stairs."

"We almost lost her then," Alan said, tears in his eyes. "And I thought..."

"That we'd lost her again," Virgil said, walking towards his wife, visibly shaking. The investigator stood back, letting Virgil stand next to his wife.

Gently kissing the one non-marked part of his face, Virgil was unashamed of the tears pouring down his face. "I thought I had lost you," he whispered.

Smiling, Sarah shook her head, wincing at the pain before speaking. "Nah – took me too long to get you to see me as not being little Sarah Jane Woodbury. You promised me forever, remember?"

"Who saved her?" Jeff asked Freehly quietly. "From her injuries and the scope of the fire, I'd say she was probably unconscious from the blast."

"She pulled her out," Freehly gestured behind Jeff.

Lilly Evans still stood, slightly apart from the group.

Alan had turned and smiled at that statement, pulling away from his family to approach the receptionist and give her a hug.

"Thank you," he said reverently. "I – we – can never thank you enough."

Lilly blushed as Alan stepped back. "I don't think anyone can tease Dr. Tracy about her paper files anymore. The filing cabinet may have pushed Sarah into the walk, knocking her out, but as far as I could see in there, it was also what saved her."

The Tracys looked at the investigator, who shrugged. "I haven't seen the scene yet, but from what I have noted since I got here, something like that probably would have been the only thing to save her or she'd be as dead as our vic," he said, gesturing to where a body bag was being slipped into a coroner's van.

"I don't know if even Dr. Sommers deserved that," Sarah murmured.

"No," Lilly muttered. "If anyone did, it was him."

Jeff looked around, frowning at the press gathered on the edges of the cordoned off area. He looked at the paramedic.

"Can we take Sarah home?" he asked urgently. "We have an infirmary there, fully stocked. And Dr. Emily Tracy is there now."

The paramedic frowned before Sarah patted his hand. "My brother-in-law has field medic training," she said, gesturing at Alan. "And with Dad flying, we should make it there faster than you can get me to the hospital."

Shaking his head, the paramedic, who had worked with the clinic often enough, just grinned. "OK, I'll get the refusal for care paperwork. It's standard," he protested when it looked like Sarah would argue. "But have Dr. Tracy give us a call to update us, will you? That's not official, it's just because you're my favorite redhead."

Virgil glowered at the man when the paramedic went to grab a clipboard.

"Chill," Alan snickered. "He prefers his romantic interests shorter, blonder and playing on the same team."

The paramedic, who had returned, laughed at Alan's quip. "That reminds me," he grinned at Alan. "Simon wants to know if you'll sign his book. It will make him a big hit at the library where he works."

Alan looked at his sister-in-law – aw, hell – his sister in every way that mattered and smiled.

"Tell him he's getting an autographed copy of any book I ever publish. Hell, I'll do a reading of my next book as a fundraiser for the library if he'd like."

"Just the book for now, but I'll run the idea by Simon," the man smirked. "He got stuck on the fund-raising committee for the new children's wing."

Sarah was staring sadly at the building. Lilly approached and patted her leg gently.

"We can rebuild," Lilly said with confidence before glancing at Mr. Tracy.

After all, it was his money.

Glancing at all three of his children, Jeff saw the resolve in their eyes and he nodded. Whoever was responsible wasn't going to stop them. This was as much a tribute to his late wife and his entire family as International Rescue was. Some nut job wasn't going to stop them.

"We will rebuild," he said adamantly. Even as his words were echoed by the rest of his family, Jeff felt a moment of terror that he hadn't had since the Hood. Who could hate them this much and how long would the Tracys last until their luck ran out?

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - Wrist is getting better. Sent Sammygirl1963 details on future stories. She is advising I remain in protective custody for a while.**_

_**PS - If you haven't read Spense's newest story, Invisible, what are you waiting for? It's one of the best TB stories out there at the moment. ~ CC**_


	12. Chapter 12

**THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY**

_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here. I would not on them on a jet. If you like your freedom, thank a Vet!**_

* * *

><p>Chapter Twelve<p>

_**Two Weeks Later**_

Daria Delgado strolled up to the receptionist desk in the main lobby of the Tracy Tower. Absently, she recalled the first time she had been here, when the Metro Bank across the plaza was being robbed – with Alan and John Tracy inside as hostages. Frowning, Daria realized a few things that had seemed "off" to her at the time were now easily explained by the knowledge of the Tracy Family's other "family business".

Smiling politely at the young woman behind the counter, Daria flashed her badge, saying "I'm here to see Kate Tracy."

The woman frowned, nodding with supposed discretion at the security officers stationed nearby.

"I'm sorry," the receptionist – Lydia, according to her nameplate – smiled with equal politeness. "None of the Tracy Family are on site at the present. If you'd like to leave a message…"

Daria sighed and leaned forward. "Kate called me – not the other way around. Now call up to Eppsie and tell her Dorf is here and my morning sickness has really kicked in to become all day sickness – that means I have a short fuse and rapidly swaying emotions."

"Lydia!" a new voice said, approaching rapidly.

Daria turned and offered a genuine smile at Ann-Marie Thompson, Jeff Tracy's PA and a woman who had impressed the agent over and over again.

Ann-Marie leaned forward and gestured to the computer screen in front of the receptionist. "The message came through ten minutes ago, Lydia. Kate is expecting Agent Delgado."

Lydia looked like she wanted to burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Ms. Thompson."

Daria shrugged as she turned to follow Ann-Marie to a smaller, private elevator, offering the young woman at the desk a smile first to show no hard feelings.

Once in the elevator, Daria asked, "What was up with all that?"

Ann-Marie bit her lip. "For the most part, the Tracys are staying put. If they have to come off the Island, like Kate did today, they are making sure to keep off the radar. If no one knows they are here, they can't become targets."

"How is Sarah doing?" Daria asked as the elevator arrived on the 80th floor, the location for the top Tracy Enterprises Executives.

Smiling, Ann-Marie gave thumbs up. "I think Virgil came out of it worse than Sarah did. Like Kate, she was mainly bumps and bruises. Do you have any leads?"

Daria nodded. "It's why I'm here."

"Kate will be happy to hear that," Ann-Marie beamed.

"No," Daria sighed. "I don't think she will be."

* * *

><p>Kate looked at Carl Patrick with a frown.<p>

"So what do we have on this Yoshida Industries?" Kate asked.

"Not much," Carl murmured as he dug through his papers. "Can I ask why you had me look into them anyways?"

Shrugging, Kate tapped a pen on her desk. "Alan has been noting some patterns with them. Call it a hunch."

"A hunch?" Carl muttered. Then again, Tracy hunches were usually pretty spot on. Clearing his throat he began.

"OK, Yoshida Industries began as a small family owned firm in the days following the Second World War. They made a few enemies as they clearly were not opposed to working with the occupational forces in order to get ahead. The company did alright, until they fell under the control of Hiromi Yoshida. Then the company began to push nationalistic ideals and concentrated on getting government contracts. Did pretty well. Hiromi was engaged but his fianceé died of an infection after what should have been routine surgery – appendix, I believe. Filled Hiromi with a deep seeded mistrust of modern medicine, and he turned to herbal cures – easily found in the small village his family called home."

"When he was fifty-eight, pressure was on him to either marry and produce an heir or name a successor from among his male relatives. He had been leaning towards one cousin when an old friend offered his twenty two year old daughter as a bride. Seems she had been educated in the West and her family felt she was becoming a borderline embarrassment. No scandal attached but what could be just rudeness to you or I can mean something all together different in the Far East."

Kate nodded and signaled to Carl to continue.

"So he marries a Rena Tanaka, then dies six months later. Remember his herbal remedies? He was supposedly poisoned by the herbal healer he used – no one knows why, though it's been propositioned that her daughter, who committed suicide years earlier had once been his mistress. The old woman was arrested and then killed herself in prison. A cousin supposedly took Hiromi's place and has been running things since."

"You said the cousin supposedly took over?" Kate asked, leaning forward in interest.

"Rumor has it the Widow Yoshida runs things," Carl explained. "She was educated in the West and they have been doing well, really expanding."

"Rena...Huh," Kate mused before shaking her head. "No, that was Gina." At Carl's confused look, Kate explained.

"Remember Tomo Wattamee? His girlfriend's name was Gina Tanaka. Wonder if they are related," Kate mused, writing down a few notes.

Carl was about to ask if Kate wanted him to check on it when Kate's phone rang. Answering it, she spoke quickly before hanging up with a smile.

"Daria is on her way in. I know you are looking forward to Casey's wedding in London, so I won't keep you any longer Carl. Get to the airport before you miss your flight."

Carl left with a smile, all of his thoughts on his daughter's wedding.

* * *

><p>Daria entered Kate's office, once more impressed by the understated elegance that didn't scream "money" but instead whispered it in your ear.<p>

"I've said it before, Eppsie, I'll say it again – private life beats public any day. I don't think I've ever been in a government office this nice before."

"If you had," Kate said sardonically. "I hope you would launch an immediate investigation."

Both women chuckled as Daria took seat offered her.

"You said you had news?" Kate said, hopeful.

Daria eyed her friend and took careful note of the tension around Kate's eyes and the careful application of make-up designed to cover up sleepless nights.

"How are you doing?" Daria asked bluntly.

"I'm alive," Kate said with equal candor. "So? News?"

"Well, to begin with, how reliable a person is Monica Bates?"

"Monica Bates?" Kate said with a frown. "Do you mean our employee – recent transfer from Boston?"

"OK," Daria smirked. "Color me impressed. Thousands of global employees, you recall one."

"She was slated to transfer to New York earlier this year. But she annoyed Alan and he refused to have her on his team. Another slot opened and we brought her on for a six month position. If Monica works well with this job, she'll be given a permanent position. If not, she was doing well in Boston and will be moved back there."

"Wo-kay," Daria drawled. "She annoyed Alan? Easy going, gets along with everyone Alan? How the hell did she manage that?"

Kate shrugged. "Called up her ex – who happens to be Gordon – to report Alan repeatedly going to a house that ended up being his shrink. Then she made a bit of a pass at him later – practically in front of Tin-Tin. She's good at her job though, so the wives have chosen to ignore her habit of sleeping with or making passes at executives. It's never improved her career, so it seems to be just a quirk. She stays this side of sexual harassment and if someone says they aren't interested, Monica respects it."

"That would do it," Daria muttered.

"So why bring her up?" Kate asked.

"She gave us a lead," Daria admitted. "Seems when she was here a few weeks ago, at a restaurant and overheard some of a conversation. Monica didn't think anything of it at first, until she learned of someone shooting at John. I met with her and got the details, but before I could pursue the lead, I was informed of the bombing at the clinic."

"Thank your bosses about that," Kate said. "We are making it out to be a gas leak. I don't want the media running stories about someone stalking the Tracys. So far, it has been just a series of unfortunate events." Eyeing Daria, she smirked.

"But you are here to tell me it wasn't."

Daria nodded slowly. "Yesterday, I had an interview with the suspect. I think you may know her." She handed Kate a file.

Kate almost dropped the file after reading it for only a moment. "Oh my...Holy God in Heaven. It can't be."

"I recorded the interview," Daria said calmly, standing up and inserting a disc into a dvd player on a shelf, turning on the small television before sitting back down.

_**THE INTERVIEW**_

_Daria secretly pressed a second button, starting a video recorder before overtly setting up an audio recorder. "I hope you don't mind. I prefer to record interviews – it helps me organize the file better later."_

_The lawyer – Miles Van Pelt – leaned forward. "And if I ask for a copy of the recording."_

_Bowing her head slightly, Daria smiled. "I'll make you a copy." Leaning forward, she adjusted the mike. "Let the record show, this is an interview with Susan Haas, October 12__th__ at 1400 hours, New York time. Also present at this time is Miles Van Pelt, defense attorney and Gerald Haas, the suspect's – sorry, the interviewee's – spouse."_

_Susan Haas bristled. "May I ask what I am being suspected of?"_

"_Did you have lunch with Justin Pepperton, a family law attorney on September 17__th__? And during the course of that lunch did you ask how you could improve your chances of gaining access to your grandchildren?"_

_Gerald paled and looked at Susan in disbelief. "Susan..."_

"_That was a private conversation," Susan bristled._

"_You had it at the Avalon Gardens," Daria drawled. "If you wanted to enforce lawyer-client confidentiality, you should have had it at Mr. Pepperton's office."_

"_That would have been a bad idea," Gerald hissed. "Since his office is down the hallway from mine."_

_Susan looked a bit worried before her society face came out again. "I have a right to my grandchildren."_

"_Enough to kill for it?" Daria asked bluntly._

"_Kill?" both Miles and Gerald asked in dismay. Susan flinched but showed no other emotion._

"_The day after your lovely luncheon – how was the sea bass anyhow? – someone drugged a construction truck driver. He nearly took out Katherine Eppes Tracy and her sons. Kate Tracy has been very effective in keeping the law between you and any access to your grandchildren, hasn't she? She and her husband are also first in line for custody according to Emily and John Tracy's wills. If Scott had lost his wife and children, he would have been devastated. Maybe enough to not fight you for his brother's children?" Looking up from her notes, Daria smirked. "Not likely."_

"_That is pretty thin agent," Miles insisted._

"_Thirty two hours later, someone took a shot at John Tracy," Daria continued. "If a retired FBI sniper hadn't been there, they may have taken out your biggest threat. No John Tracy, a possible weaker link to the Tracy Family?" Glancing back up from her notes, she smirked once more. "Again, not likely."_

"_The day after that, a letter bomb was delivered, addressed to Dr. Emily Tracy at her clinic - " _

"_WHAT!" Gerald cried out, his face having gone so pale Daria paused, wondering if the man was going to pass out._

"_For better or worse," Daria said, after she was sure everyone in the room was remaining vertical. "Emily Tracy was not at the clinic that day. She had gone with her husband and brother-in-law to retrieve Kate and the boys after the so-called accident, and her other sister-in-law, Sarah, who also works at the clinic, had taken her place at a board meeting being held there. The board had dispersed, thank God, and no patients were there at the time. So there was only the receptionist, who was fortunately in a back supply room at the time, one physician and Sarah Tracy." Leaning back, Daria said solemnly, "The physician was killed in the explosion."_

"_None of this has anything to do with my client," Van Pelt said haughtily. "Susan Haas is a pillar of society, a patron of - "_

"_Save it for your opening to the jury," Daria sneered. "Your client was overheard asking if her daughter and son-in-law dying would improve her chances of gaining custody of her grandchildren and then three of the biggest blocks to that are all threatened in less than seventy two hours? Do you really think that can all be chocked up to coincidence?"_

"_Agent Delgado," Gerald said calmly. "Susan can be many things, some rather unpleasant -"_

"_Gerald!" Susan snapped in dismay._

_Her husband ignored her. "But even she would not go so far as to murder. Additionally, I may be a business law attorney, but I am still an attorney and this is all circumstantial. However, I am willing to offer a concession that should allow the law – and, I presume, the Tracy Family, to breathe a bit easier. I will block Susan from having any access to the family accounts. Anything larger than say, a thousand dollars, will have to go through me. You will agree that hired guns charge a lot more than that, correct?" When Daria nodded, he continued._

"_I would love reconciliation with our daughter and getting to know our grandchildren, but I know that will probably never happen. Please tell Emily..." He paused, biting his lower lip in a habit Daria recognized from his daughter._

"_Tell Emily, I'm proud of her. And that she won't be hearing from us again, unless she should choose to do so."_

_When the Haas' and their attorney stood, Daria did as well, nodding at Gerald. She wouldn't make any promises, but..._

The screen faded to black, and when Kate would have gotten up to remove the cd, Daria waved her back.

"Leave it. That's your copy. Kate," she sighed, leaning forward. "I honestly can't find any link between anyone else and threats to your family. The Hood and one of his chief associates, Scullion? – I mean Mullion, are securely in prison. No correspondence, no internet access, no phone calls and no, no new visitors. And one of his few remaining loyal minions was shanked in prison – Corrine Transom? No, the money trail seems to implicate Susan Haas. Almost half a million dollars between liquidated stocks, funds withdrawn and unaccounted for jewelry, thank to Gerald Haas' full cooperation, we have accounted for money that is, oddly enough, unaccounted for. Susan Haas is swearing she has done nothing illegal and for all we know, she has a gambling addiction and it's going to an on-line poker parlor being run out of the Caymans. But I lack proof."

"Yet it all seems to fit in a truly screwed up fashion," Kate sighed. "Gerald Haas is keeping the track on all money lines?"

"With our trackers at that," Daria drawled. "And not sure if this is important, but the Haas' were on vacation earlier this year – a ten day tour of England and France."

"Let me guess, during the Olympics?" Kate snapped.

"Again, nothing that can be proven except the fact that the happy society couple may travel together but seem to only see each other for breakfast and dinner. Mr. Haas had meetings he had to do the casual bit for and that left Susan to do shopping or whatever."

"So you – and I presume others higher up in the FBI agree – think that Susan Haas was causing some accidents in hope that the murders of her daughter and son-in-law would be someone going after the Tracys en-mass. That with John and Emily out of the way, she could claim her grandchildren and the hell with the rest of the family."

"It's where the evidence is leading us," Daria shrugged, wincing as she did. "I – I won't..."

When Daria trailed off, Kate took a really good look at her friend, spotting her swollen eyes and hands, the trouble she was having breathing and came to a sudden worry. "Sally," she said into her phone. "Get the employee health NP up here. NOW."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Daria slurred.

"Has your BP been spiking again?" Kate pressed. Before she could get an answer, the door opened and an Arnold Schwarzenegger wanna be entered.

The few quick words from Kate had Dolf checking the agent's vitals. A few tests had him calling 911.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Dinner, the next evening on Tracy Island<strong>_

"Earth to Kate, Earth to Kate," Alan teased from his seat between Tin-Tin and Jeff. The entire family, including the Kyranos – barring Julie, who had returned to New York and Brains, who was up on Thunderbird Five for the week – was present. John was due to go back to his station the next day, thus a family dinner was called for.

At the other end of the table, Kate looked up from her rapidly cooling soup. "I'm sorry, kiddo – did you say something?"

"Have you heard anything further on Daria?" Emily asked. Over the years, the entire family had become fond of the FBI agent.

"Tony sent a text earlier," Kate sighed. "It is preeclampsia again. During Daria's first pregnancy, she had to be put on bed rest for a few weeks, but then she returned to work. This time it looks like she will be out until she delivers, which is luckily only a couple of months. For better or worse, her parents retired last year and the Morgandorfers are coming to New York until the baby comes. Um, Dad – I loaned them one of the apartments. One of the ones for Tracy Employees? Daria doesn't need the stress of them living with her right now."

Jeff chuckled. Tracy Enterprises had purchased an apartment building at auction a few years ago and the apartment was for low-level employees who would have had to commute too far to find an affordable place to live.

"With all Daria has done for this family, I'm fine with that," Jeff agreed.

"But that's not all," Alan pressed.

"After dinner, Alan," Kate said firmly, eying the children.

Once dessert was finished, Kate nodded at Jason. "Baby, can you and Elizabeth take your brother and cousins to the lounge. A movie is in the player. We'll join you in a little bit."

Jason frowned, not liking to be kept out of anything, until Elizabeth leaned over and whispered in his ear. All smiles now, the two oldest grandchildren wrangled the group out of the dining room.

"Alright," Sarah asked, rubbing slightly at the spot where her stitches had been removed only a few days ago. The area was still tender. "What couldn't you – or wouldn't you – say in front of the children."

Steepling her fingers, Kate sighed before looking at her family. "Daria interviewed a possible suspect behind the attacks and we believe they have been stymied. Financial access had been blocked. The suspect is not one to get her hands dirty, so she would need the money."

"Who?" Virgil asked. "Transom?"

Jeff shook his head. "No, it can't be her. According to Penny, she died in prison last month."

"She was murdered in prison," Kate absently corrected. Seeing Jeff's shock, Kate shrugged. "Sorry, Dad – I would have thought Penny would have told you how she died. According to the Matron at the prison, Transom's "I'm better than you" attitude pissed off one person too many."

"And she leaves out the Hood," Tin-Tin cautiously said, clasping both her husband's and her mother's hands on either side of her.

"Emily," Kate said in a hesitant voice. "I've been trying to find a good way to tell you, but frankly I can't think of one, so I'll be blunt. The suspect is Susan Haas."

"What?" Emily said in dismay. "But – but why?"

"The kids," John grimly concluded, taking Emily hand when she began to cry after Kate nodded. "The worst attacks – the shooting and the bomb – were directed at Em and I. If we were dead, Susan Haas might be able to convince a judge that she deserves access to her grandchildren."

"That's the working theory," Kate sighed. "There's nothing concrete, but – Emily!"

Emily had stood up and was visibly shaking. "I – I'm so sorry," she cried, tears pouring down her face.

"Em," Alan said firmly. "You are our family, not hers. No one here holds what that bitch did against you."

It was a sign of how upset he was that Jeff didn't admonish Alan on his language.

"Alan's right," Jeff said with equal firmness to his son. "You are a Tracy. What she did is no reflection on you. You are my daughter now, not hers. She never deserved you," he smiled tenderly.

The family sat silently as the physician pulled herself together.

Alan and Tin-Tin smiled at each other, nodding as they decided good news was needed.

"Would anyone like to hear something more positive?" Tin-Tin asked, smiling at Sarah, who already knew what was coming.

"I think that would be great, Alan," John said. "What – Alan's new book is destined to be another blockbuster?"

The family laughed, John's raving about his kid brother's next book having been common place in family chats.

"No," Alan beamed. "But it is a very special project that we are very excited about," he said kissing his wife's cheek.

Kate frowned. "I didn't think the two of you were working on any Tracy Enterprises projects together."

"It's more of a Tracy Family project," Alan corrected.

Emily frowned, the pair weren't working on any Tracy Charity Trust projects…then she caught Sarah's smug smile and the other shoe dropped.

"Oh, my God!" Emily cried, a smile wreathing her face. "Tin's pregnant!"

Jeff stood up, before reaching down and pulling Alan into a hug. "My baby is having a baby," he said softly.

"I think that should have been my line," Onaha said as she hugged first Tin-Tin and then pulled Alan into a hug of his own, much to Jeff's mild annoyance.

The joy of the moment eclipsed the earlier news, even if it had been news that the person who had threatened the family had been taken care of. Some things were just more important.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Happy Veterans Day to all my fellow service members - and Remembrance Days for all those outside US borders. <strong>_


	13. Chapter 13

**THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY**

_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here.**_ _**I would not, could not own them in the cold. My baby turned eighteen this week, and I am feeling old.**_

_**Also, wrist still hurts, so the chapter is a bit short.**_

* * *

><p>Chapter Thirteen<p>

_**Several months later…**_

Aito Yamamoto smiled politely at the overworked government employee.

"As you can see," Aito stated, smiling all the time, "we have all the appropriate paperwork."

Brady Carroll frowned as he examined the forms. "Yes, yes I see. This is just unusual. You are aware of what Jackson Mitchell is accused of, aren't you?"

"Jackson Mitchell was never truly a violent criminal though, was he?" Aito stated. "He associated with several who committed violent crimes but for the most part, he was not considered a threat to society."

"The Tracy Family might disagree with you," Brady muttered.

"Unless the government acts under orders from the Tracys," Aito said loftily, "then this is a court order that needs to be obeyed, isn't it?"

Brady frowned again before reaching for the phone.

"Marcia? I need you to get Mitchell ready for transport. No, it's permanent. A family member has a court order that will have him transported to a private mental health facility. He's being released under the directions of an attorney in my office, Tomo Moto, from San Francisco. I checked his paperwork and it's in order. Well, tell Dr. Jaan that the ruling will stay in place. Once Mitchell has the ability to understand the charges, he'll be back in court, but until then if a family member is willing to foot the bill for private care, it's one less expense for the state of Illinois."

Hanging up the phone, Brady closed the file and signed off on the appropriate lines in the electronic medical records.

"OK, Jackson Mitchell is under limited release to the New Horizons Clinic is Palo Alto, by directions of his court appointed guardian Gina Thompson. And you say you have the private security and medical flight waiting on the air strip?"

"Everything was in order," Aito said with a touch of arrogance. "No reasonable person should have denied this request."

Brady glared at the man as he left. "Mr. Moto should stick to crime solving and leave us poor schmucks alone," he muttered as the door closed behind his visitor. Something about the whole mess seemed odd, but with one disaster after another, Brady was wondering how soon he would need his own padded room.

* * *

><p>Kate peaked around the door. Seeing Daria's eyes blink before opening wider with a smile, she let herself in.<p>

"Hey," Kate said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Daria said smiling. "But good. I finally got Tony to go take a break. He's in the cafeteria."

"So?" Kate grinned. "Where's the lady of the hour?"

As if obeying Kate's order, a nurse came in pushing a small plexi-glass basinet.

"Feeding time, Mrs. Delgado," the young man said in a chipper voice.

"Wow, she's so tiny," Kate sighed as the newborn was placed in Daria's arms.

"She didn't feel so tiny a little while ago," Daria grumbled before smiling gently at her daughter.

"Compared to our boys?" Kate laughed softly. "She's a Dresden doll."

Unlike her brother who had his father's brown eyes and dark hair, the baby showed signs of the rich auburn of her mother, while her eyes were still the newborn blue.

"I hope she'll have Tony's eyes," Daria grinned. "She's stuck with my hair," she murmured as she ran a hand over the soft fuzz covering the baby's head before setting the tiny mouth to feed.

"So?" Kate asked. "Name?"

"Her name," Daria said, watching her daughter feed hungrily, "is Elena. It's a good combo of our mothers' names. Elena Katrina Delgado."

"Katrina?" Kate said with a grin.

"Well, I wanted to name her for strong women I love and admire," Daria muttered without looking up.

"Back at ya," Kate said, fighting to hold back her tears as she watched the two Delgado women.

"So – anything new and life threatening?" Daria asked casually as her daughter continued to eat.

"No," Kate sighed. "It's beginning to look like the powers that be were right. It was Susan Haas."

"It still feels…I don't know," Daria sighed as well. "Like we are missing something."

"I know," Kate agreed. "And somehow, I feel like I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. But I'm scared by then it will be too late."

"Let's hope not, Eppsie," Daria said, lifting Elena to be burped. "Now – help me get set before the unholy terrors arrive."

"Unholy terrors?" Kate muttered in confusion, even as she adjusted Daria's bedding. Her confusion was answered when Hurricane Helen burst through the door.

"Where's my granddaughter?" Helen Morgandorfer asked in a cooing voice, her husband meekly following behind.

"Hi Mom, hi Dad," Daria smiled, watching her mother commandeer her newest granddaughter.

Kate edged to the door, slipping out even as the rest of Daria's family – well, those related by blood and marriage – crowded the room. She had her own family to see, because Daria was right.

They were missing something.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Em," Alan smiled as he sat down next to his sister-in-law. "How are you and the kids doing with Johnny upstairs?"<p>

Emily chuckled, making Alan relax a bit. The physician had been a nervous wreck for weeks after finding out that her own mother was the chief suspect in the attacks against the Tracys, fearing the other members of the family would blame her. It had taken a lot of time and reassurance to make Emily see otherwise.

"We're fine," Emily smiled back. "Has Kate called from New York yet?"

"Yep," Alan grinned. "Baby Girl, Elena Katrina, six pounds, eight ounces and perfect for being a few weeks early. Daria is fine if exhausted and itching to get back to work. With both Daria and her sister in New York now, her parents are house shopping out on Long Island. Tony's family gave them a good lead on a condo out that way."

"Grandparents can be a blessing," Emily murmured absently. "Alan…"

"Emily, you made the right call," Alan assured her. "Would your mother even be interested in the kids if your brother and his wife had produced her socially required offspring?"

Emily chuckled again, only this time with sadness tinting the tone. "No," she sighed. "No she wouldn't."

"Uncle Alan, Uncle Alan," Elizabeth called out as she ran into the room. "It's story time. Are you ready?"

Alan picked up his niece and kissed her cheek. "Ready and able, oh, fearless leader!" he teased her. "Give Mommy a kiss. Oh, and Emily?" When the doctor looked up, he blushed slightly. "I forgot – Can you go see Tin? She's losing her dinner, wondering what idiot called it morning sickness and cursing me in three different languages."

Emily looked confused so Alan said, "English, Malaysian and French. She and Julie will get on like a house on fire for that."

Smiling Emily watched Alan leave with her daughter, a tinge of sadness in her heart for the other babies she would never have before she got up to go check on her sister-in-law. The other babies were the main reason she could never forgive her mother – and why her children would never know those grandparents. A part of her still wondered if Susan Haas was really the one behind the attempts on the family. But it had to be…

Didn't it?

* * *

><p>Kate Tracy tapped a pen on her desk, waiting anxiously until there was a knock on her door.<p>

""Ello, Missus Kate," Aloysius Parker, driver and right hand man to long time Tracy friend Lady Penelope peeked around the door. "M'lady said you wished to see me."

"Yes, Parker," Kate said kindly. "Please. Come in and take a seat." Once the man was sitting in front of her, Kate took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Parker, I'd like to talk to you about your daughter," Kate said bluntly.

The older man went pale. "Lady Penelope told you about my daughter?"

Kate smiled gently. "No. Perhaps I should back up a bit. Not long ago, I tried to find out some added background info on one of our employees, Julie Maxwell."

"Julie Maxwell?" Parker mused. "Isn't that the young lady Mr. Gordon is going to marry?"

"Yes, Parker," Kate confirmed. "But while we were investigating any possible reason for the attacks on the family, we started with Julie's family. Julie's parents divorced when she was young and she was raised with her stepfather's name. Since her biological father's parental rights had been stripped by a judge at her mother's behest, Julie didn't even know his full name for years. Her maternal grandparents had loved her very much but after they died within a week of each other, her mother sent her to a French Convent school. Julie was only brought back because her stepfather in a sports promoter and Julie was doing rather well in swimming competitions. He felt it looked bad for her to be doing that in Europe."

"Her mother told me she'd give her my information when she turned eighteen," Parker said, a lump in his throat. "Said it needed to be Juliet's choice."

Kate shook her head. "Her mother never told Julie, instead she said that you had surrendered all rights to her and said you had washed your hands of her."

"Never!" Parker insisted. "My Juliet was the joy of my life. But – she's respectable now. An Olympic athlete and marrying into the Tracy Family. She won't want anything to do with me. I'm an ex-convict and a servant. Juliet deserves better than that."

"All I ever wanted," Julie said in a shaky voice from the doorway, "was a parent who loved me and was proud of me. Do I have that or not?"

Parker turned, his eyes going wide before filling with tears. "Oh my. I'd 'ave known you anywhere. You are the very image of my mother."

"Really?" Julie asked with tears in her own eyes. "I'd like to hear about her."

"Take your father up to the penthouse, Julie," Kate smiled. "I think you could both use some time and privacy. Maybe some coffee."

"Tea would be better," Julie and Parker said at the same time before they started to laugh. Anne Marie came in at Kate's signal and led them to the private elevator that went to the penthouse.

Kate sat back down, smiling. She doubted they would have discovered the link between the pair if not for the earlier attacks.

"What do you know," she muttered as she pulled out a file. "Susan Haas was good for something."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Two days later<strong>_

"So did Lady P say that Parker came back in one piece?" Kate joked as she joined the family.

"That and that the man can't stop humming and smiling," Jeff smiled in return. "That was a great thing you did, Kate."

"Yeah," Gordon sighed. "Now, I don't just have to worry about Kate coming after me if Julie is unhappy with me, I need to worry about Parker."

"Well, Gordon," Alan grinned. "Just don't blow it." Then he looked solemn. "Seriously, Gordo – don't blow it. Julie is the best thing that could ever happen to you."

"I know, Al," Gordon sighed again. "And I'm doing my best."

"Alan, are you still doing that book reading for the New York City Youth Literacy Fundraiser?" Jeff asked after a few minutes of random conversations from around the table.

"Yes," Alan said with an apologetic smile at his wife. "Tin isn't coming now, seeing as how she becomes sick on planes these days – well, except for short flights."

"Well, I do have to go to New York," Jeff mentioned. "Kate says that Mr. Pushkin will only deal with me."

"Wants the man in charge?" Scott joked.

"Wants a man," Kate grumbled. "Misogynistic jackass."

"OK," Alan said cheerfully. "Dad and I head to New York tomorrow." He turned to his wife. "Want anything from New York?"

Tin-Tin poked at her food and sighed. "Something I can eat without losing my lunch?"

"Lunch is usually fine, Auntie Tin," Jason said with a grin. "You usually hurl after dinner."

As Tin jumped up to run to the bathroom – again – Alan sighed and followed. New York was looking better by the moment.

* * *

><p>Jackson Mitchell looked out the window, focusing on something for the first time in months. Tracy Tower…Why was that important?<p>

"Jackson," a voice said softly in his ear. "Drink this. It will help you focus."

Mitchell obediently drank the tea, and soon he zoned out once more…Tracy…The Tracys…Hate…Anger…Tracy…

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN I know, not much going on. But that will change soon.**_


	14. Chapter 14

**THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY**

_**disclaimer - I would not could not own them there. I would not could not would not own them here.**_ _**I would not, could not own them in any way, but I hope you have a nice Thanksgiving Day.**_

_**Unless you live outside the U.S.A - In that case, drop the word "Thanksgiving", OK?**_

_**And as a PM pointed out, yes, there are time leaps in this story. We started in August when Alan and Tin got married. It will end - except the epilogue - about a year later. These things take time, people! Evil empires were not built - or destroyed - in a day.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen<strong>

Gina thumbed through piles of reports – mining, industry, Tracys – stopping when she came to a particular image.

The rebuilt Tracy Clinic in New Zealand was the backdrop for one picture, with a laughing Alan Tracy in the foreground. His arm was flung around a pretty young woman that Gina recognized as his girlfriend from his graduation. Both now wore wedding rings and Gina felt her hatred deepen even further. They had the wedded bliss that had been denied her and Tomo. Looking more closely, Gina could see the way the Tracy wife's light tunic clung to her outwardly curving stomach.

Alan Tracy was going to be a father.

No. It wasn't fair. Why should they have what should have been hers – a future with their true love and children? No no no no.

Picking up her phone, Gina quickly called Aito.

"Aito, how is our guest? Excellent. It will soon be time for him to make a journey outside of those walls. See that he is ready. And Aito? Do not disappoint me again."

Hanging up the device, Gina glared at the picture again.

How dare he be happy?

* * *

><p>Alan set down the book, smiling at the applause and moving into position to begin his book signing. He enjoyed book signings for the most part. Most of the time, all one of his fans had to do was buy the book and show up on a certain day. This particular book signing was at a bookstore near to the Waldorf-Astoria and was part of a charitable event – ten authors over the course of the week were reading their newest books (Alan's had just come out just before Christmas a couple of months earlier) and signing them for guests who had paid five hundred dollars a head.<p>

Well, at least they got the book included.

Caterers moved through the crowd, passing out champagne, mineral water and finger foods as people waited their turns to have their books signed and chat with Alan. To his annoyance, some tried to bring up his family. Alan always changed the subject and soon people kept it to his writing.

"And who can I make this out to," Alan asked without looking up, exhausted as the signing came to an end.

"Susan Haas," a cultured voice said from above.

Alan closed his eyes, willing his temper to cool before he looked up.

"Mrs. Haas," he said coolly. "What are you doing here?"

"I could say I am a fan of your work," Susan said defensively.

"But you aren't."

"No. No I am not," Susan admitted. "But I would like you to speak to my daughter. Please," she snapped. "You showed my husband a picture of Emily's family. You have a kind heart, everyone says so. Surely you can show me some compassion."

"Compassion?" Alan hissed. "Lady, you are the chief suspect in attacks against my family. You wanted nothing to do with Em until you realized she may be the mother of your only grandchildren. You withheld medical information that almost cost Emily her life and potentially endangered my niece. The only thing I am giving you is a chance to leave _before_ I call the police."

"No!" Susan yelled, attracting the attention of a security guard. Grabbing Alan's arm, she seemed to lose control.

"I didn't do those things! Well, I didn't try and harm Emily! I swear, it wasn't me! She's still in danger as long as you people think I'm at fault. I deserve my grandchildren. Your father has so many, but I only have Elizabeth and Keith. Please!"

At a nod from Alan, the security guard pulled Susan away. Gathering her composure, she looked directly at Alan.

"You will regret this, Alan Tracy. I swear you will," she snapped.

As Susan was led away, Alan sat down, shaking, oblivious to the lingering guests who had caught the added show. After a few minutes, he pulled himself together and got up, yanking out his cell phone as he did.

"Anne Marie? Is Dad available?" he asked quickly. "Still in the meeting? OK, if he gets done before I get there, tell him I will be over shortly. Something's happened. No, I'll tell you when I get there. But find out who is covering for Daria Delgado while she's out on maternity leave. Yeah, it's about that. See you soon, Anne Marie."

Alan hung up his phone and ran into the street, glad that he had left his winter coat on the back of his chair for the signing. An icy rain had begun to fall in the city streets and there wasn't a free taxi cab to be seen. Zipping up the coat and flipping up his collar, Alan began the trek to Tracy Towers, glad that he was in good shape.

He was going to need it.

* * *

><p>Julie glanced over at Jeff Tracy with a small smile. The computer security program had been designed by Kate and herself and it was clear that while Jeff had all the notes possible, it really would have been better for Kate to have this run.<p>

If only Mr. Pushkin wasn't such a _cochon_.

"I'm sure Julie can explain the technical aspects of this far better than I can, Ivan," Jeff said with a tight smile.

Ivan Pushkin was the CEO of a family run company that had gone from building typewriters for the Stalin government to being the chief developer of computer hardware in Eastern Europe. But as they expanded their company's sales westward, Pushkin was discovering the greater need for software security – and the reputation of Tracy Enterprises in this was second to none. To his annoyance, they continually tried to deflect him off on secretaries and the like. Women, in his opinion, did not belong at certain levels of business, except to make life easier for men. Katherine Tracy was particularly annoying, moving on a level best left for a man and leaving her babies at home for others to care for.

"If you do not understand your own software, Mr. Tracy," Pushkin said formally, only for Julie to quietly enter the fray.

"Mr. Tracy is an engineer, Monsieur Pushkin," Julie said softly, allowing her French accent to become more pronounced. "However, his son Alan – a graduate from Harvard University – worked on this project. I made sure he reviewed everything. I am certain I can explain it clearly in his absence."

Jeff schooled his face not to reveal his surprise at that statement but raised an eyebrow at Julie implying he wanted an explanation – later. A cool smile from Julie promised one in return.

Leaning back, Jeff listened to Julie give all the details and how their program would benefit Pushkin's company. She even laughingly brought up that Alan had been the Tracy son to break into an American and a Chinese satellite to save his sister-in-law and nephews and that he had soothed the annoyed governments by then making those hacker-proof.

Well, hacker-proof to anyone but Alan.

Jeff could see his fellow business man become more and more impressed, and whenever he seemed to wander away mentally, Julie would bring Pushkin back by implying that she was merely speaking for an absent Alan.

Soon the man stood, holding his hand out to Jeff. "I will leave it to the number crunchers, but I think we can conclude that my company will soon be protected by Alan Tracy's programs. Good day to you, Mr. Tracy." Pushkin nodded briefly at Julie before leaving the room.

"Alan wasn't involved in this project," Jeff said wryly.

"I was working on it when I was staying on the Island," Julie shrugged in a very Gallic manner. "I had him proof-read my final report to Kate before handing it over to her."

Jeff roared with laughter. Oh, yeah – Julie was marrying the right Tracy son.

* * *

><p>Aito sat in the small coffee shop near Tracy Towers, whispering to the man next to him.<p>

"Do you understand what you must do? Do you know your target?"

Jackson Mitchell frowned before his face went blank again. "Yes."

In truth, part of Mitchell's mind didn't understand. The gun in his pocket felt alien to him. Flashes of memory were trying to push to the front. A woman visiting him in prison, telling him things about his brother being the victim of a plot. But Jackson knew Kyle. The kid had a vicious temper thanks to the abuse of their mother and stepfather. He had at least had his father. If only he had been able to get Kyle away…

Images of the woman flitted through his mind, over and over. He felt obliged to do what she wanted but somehow he knew this was wrong. Sure, Mitchell had been pissed at Jeff Tracy. But Alan Tracy? He was innocent, why did this woman want him to hurt Alan Tracy?

A few sips of the tea in front of him, substituted for the drink he had ordered, emptied his mind of all rational thoughts and convinced him that he needed to do as he was told.

Aito saw the moment Jackson Mitchell fell once more completely under their sway. He smirked, feeling confident that this would meet with Gina's approval. Mitchell was too broken, too damaged to be of any real use. At least this would confound the Tracys and send them into a devastating tail spin, one he doubted they would recover from any time soon.

* * *

><p>Greg Sanders set down his cell phone and double checked the address. He hated times like this…<p>

Knocking on the door of the elegant townhouse, the FBI agent glanced around, noticing the disdainful glances he was getting from the few people out of the street on such a lousy day. Winter had been late in coming to the Big Apple, but now that it was here…Personally, he preferred snow, but the icy rain fit – it was just more uncomfortable, he thought as it stung his bare face.

"Yes?" asked the middle aged woman answered the door.

"I'm looking for Susan Haas," Greg said as he flashed his credentials.

"Mrs. Haas isn't back yet -" the woman began as she started to close the door only for Greg to slam his hand on the frame.

"I checked with her car service," Greg snapped. "She was dropped off ten minutes ago. Now, do I need to bring her downtown or can we keep this polite."

"Elsie," Susan's voice came from within. "Let him in. But call Mr. Haas at the office, will you?"

The woman agreed even as she let Greg into a front parlor before leaving to presumably call her employer.

"The Tracys called the FBI already?" Susan asked calmly as she sipped her tea, her clutch purse still on the table in front of her.

"Greg Sander, FBI," he said, flashing his badge again.

"And Ms. Delgado?" Susan enquired politely. "I thought she handled this case."

"_Agent _Delgado," Greg stress, "is out on leave. I'm covering for a lot of her work until she returns."

"Of course, she was in a delicate condition, wasn't she?" Susan mused as she sipped her tea again.

Greg smirked for a moment at anyone considering Daria to be delicate before he gave his best Fed Glare. "May I ask what you thought you were doing today?" Greg asked. "I believe Agent Delgado and your own attorney advised you to stay away from the Tracys."

"No," Susan corrected. "I was told to stay away from Emily, her children and her husband. No one mentioned her brother-in-law."

"He shouldn't have had to," Gerald's voice said as he entered the room. Glancing at Susan, he shook his head. "I was reviewing your expenses and saw you had purchased admission to the reading. Since it isn't one of your usual charities, I came home to talk to you about when Gwendolyn Abbott called me."

"Who?" Greg asked.

"The wife of one of Gerald's partners," Susan snapped. "What did that busy body say?"

"That you harassed Alan Tracy and had to be escorted from the store after making a scene," Gerald sighed. "Susan – please. Aggravating other members of Emily's family will win you no points and only make them more determined that we'll never see her or her children. Please, don't do this to yourself."

Seeing the implacable look on his wife's face, Gerald sat down and took her hand. "Susan, Roderick and Melissa are interviewing surrogates. We'll probably have another grandchild within a couple of years."

"A grandchild of questionable pedigree," Susan stressed. "Will a child from a rent-a-womb graduate with honors from an Ivy League college? Or be the debutante of the year? How can they? Even with Jeff Tracy being one generation from a farmer, look at what his sons have achieved! Honors after honors. Athletes, scholars, military hero, authors, scientists, artists…Who knows what Elizabeth and Keith will achieve with bloodlines like they have? They must know of their heritage through their mother. They are part of our legacy, Gerald."

"The manager of the store is not filing a complaint," Greg said, interrupting. "I'll have to talk to Alan Tracy to see if he wants to press charges but he probably won't. I would, however, recommend you keep your distance from anyone named Tracy." That said, Greg took his leave.

Susan continued to sip her tea, saying nothing. Gerald had begun to rant, wondering what Susan was thinking, what she thought she would achieve when he saw that she wasn't looking at him. Instead her eyes were focused on her clutch purse. Moving it aside, Gerald silently picked up the picture of his daughter and her family. He had wondered what Susan had done with it…

"It will be alright," Gerald sighed as he sat down next to his wife. "It will be. They will find out who is responsible and maybe…"

"She's as stubborn as I am, isn't she?" Susan interrupted softly. "Emily will never forgive me, will she?"

"I don't know," Gerald answered bluntly.

A single tear ran down Susan's face before she set down her cup. "I have a committee meeting at the hospital this afternoon. I need to check my make-up. And I am sure you have work as well."

Gerald sat in silence for a minute before slipping the picture back into Susan's purse. With a nod at Elsie as he left, Gerald went back into the icy rain, needing to get back to the office. He loved his wife – no matter what – but he knew she was paying the price for the emotional neglect Emily had endured for years. Susan and Emily really were alike in some ways, something he doubted his stubborn, brilliant, beautiful daughter would ever admit.

* * *

><p>Jeff stood on the sidewalk, having walked with Julie to escort Mr. Pushkin to his waiting car.<p>

"I will have the contracts sent, Mr. Tracy," Pushkin said formally.

Jeff smiled, trying not to shiver – he really wasn't used to the cold any more – as the man climbed into the back of the town car and drove off.

"We should go inside, Mr. Tracy," Julie admonished. "You don't want to catch a chill."

"I'm tougher than that, Julie," Jeff laughed. He really did have the worst time getting his future daughter in laws to call him anything but Mr. Tracy…

"How tough are you, Boss Man?" a rough voice asked.

Jeff and Julie both turned sharply, paling at the sight of Jackson Mitchell pointing a small gun at them.

"Wh-what?" Jeff stammered in shock. "You? Mitchell, you are supposed to be locked up."

"I finally understand why," Mitchell said, ignoring Jeff's words. "You are evil…I need to destroy the evil so Kyle and I can be happy. You need to be destroyed."

Mitchell raised the gun, no emotion on his face, and fired…

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - Bet you never saw THAT coming.**_


	15. Chapter 15

**The Enemy of My Enemy**

_**Disclaimer - I would not, could not own them here; I would not, could not own them there. I would not...DAMN! THAT HURT!**_

_**Cut my finger this morning, do you know they will do just one stitch on a finger? But couldn't torture you too much longer.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen<strong>

When Jackson Mitchell raised the gun directly at Jeff Tracy, the billionaire had a thousand thoughts flash through his mind…

_Running through the high grass, his best friend Millie by his side, exploring the wilderness that an open field can be to a four year old…_

_The smell of his mother's homemade apple pie drifting through the house on a cold winter's afternoon, sitting near his father, the scent of his father's pipe as the older man read the paper and Jeff worked on his homework at the scarred but sturdy kitchen table…_

_Looking his father in the eye and telling Grant Tracy that he didn't want to be a farmer – that he would become an astronaut…Seeing in his father's eyes the combination of pride in his son's dreams and the fear that what the family had worked for over the generations could be lost forever…_

_Meeting Lucy Keith for the first time…and trying to remember to breathe as his heart was stolen by her bright blue eyes and gentle smile…_

_Seeing the most beautiful woman in the universe walking down the aisle towards him…_

_Holding his firstborn son in his arms…then each consecutive son, their first steps and words…_

_Losing the love of his life…only to find a new purpose in his sons and International Rescue…_

_His sons' achievements…and times he had nearly lost them…_

_Each son falling in love with a strong, remarkable woman and forming their own branch of the family tree…_

Then there was pain in his head…and the world went black.

* * *

><p>Alan Tracy raced through the streets of Manhattan, some inner voice telling him that he needed to get to his father. Over the years, Alan had learned to trust what John called "Tracy Instinct", the inherent knowledge that a family member needed you.<p>

Running past the bank on the corner across from the Tracy Towers, Alan paused, breathing out in relief at the sight of his father and Julie on the sidewalk, waving off a Town Car. Smiling, he deftly moved around a woman who nearly slipped on the icy sidewalk, grabbing her by the elbow as she began to lose her balance. The woman smiled in thanks and then in interest at the handsome young man, something Alan seemed truly clueless about as he began to cross the street.

It was then that Alan saw Jackson Mitchell approach his father and pull out a small handgun. The warning he screamed to Jeff Tracy was swallowed up by the madness that was a Manhattan afternoon. But it drew the attention of people close to Alan who reacted as was typical, some calling 911 while others tried to capture the moment on their cell phones.

The gunshot made Alan freeze half way through the intersection, nearly being struck by a speeding taxi cab. Ignoring the screams and shouts that followed, Alan dashed the remainder of the way to his father's side, his heart nearly stopping at the sight of Jeff Tracy laying on the sidewalk, Julie protectively covering him as blood streamed down his face.

Turning to glare at Jackson Mitchell, Alan knew what it was like to truly hate someone in that moment.

"You son of a bitch," the youngest Tracy son hissed. "You and your psycho brother tried to kill me and now…now my…my Dad," he sobbed, his heart breaking.

Mitchell looked confused, dropping his weapon after staring at it in confusion, as if he couldn't figure out how he had gotten it or what he was doing. Raising his head, he stared at Alan.

"What…why am I here? You…you're Alan. You're Alan Tracy."

"Playing psycho again?" Alan snapped out. "Think that they let you get away with what you did to me by doing that so you'll play the same hand." Somewhere from the back of the young man's mind, he could hear the voices of Carl Patrick and Anne Marie Thompson. But all he could think about was his father lying so still on the walkway and the painful knowledge that this excuse for a human being was the reason a part of his own heart was with his father…his rock…on a New York City sidewalk.

Looking past Alan in horror, Mitchell's mouth moved soundlessly, words failing him before he could finally speak. "No…No I couldn't do something like that. I couldn't…NO!"

When Mitchell dashed out into the busy street, already crowded with the heavier traffic a bad weather day would bring and people gawking at the free show they were being given, Alan quickly followed only to have his father's long-time security chief grab him pulling him back towards the sidewalk…

And it was for that reason that the bus, going a reasonable speed for the time, traffic and weather conditions, still wasn't able to stop as the driver's perfect safety record was shattered…

Along with Jackson Mitchell.

Alan stared in horror at the sight in front of him, years of working rescues telling him that even if he could get to the man, there was nothing to be done except to pray for his soul.

"Alan…"

Both Carl and Anne Marie had been trying to get the youngest Tracy son's attention since they had gotten there, saying his name repeatedly. Julie had been calling out his name as well. Yet somehow he hadn't heard any of them. But when that voice whispered his name, Alan's head whipped around and he nearly fainted in relief at the sight of his father's pain-filled brown eyes staring at him.

In a flash, Alan was by his father's side, tenderly holding his hand, smiling through his tears. "Hey," Alan whispered. "Here's an about face, huh, Dad?" Alan joked, referring to the repeated times over the last decade that he had woken from an injury or illness to find his father waiting patiently by his side. Alan was rewarded by a trembling hand gently touching his cheek, wiping at tears Alan had already forgotten about.

The sound of sirens were soon filling the air, and in no time the Tracy patriarch and his son were on their way to the hospital, leaving behind three employees who were more like family to deal with the authorities, at least for the moment.

* * *

><p>Susan Haas looked impeccability put together to anyone who didn't know her well. To the few that did, they could see the tell-tale signs of tension and pain.<p>

But she never let most of the world see that. Her mask was firmly in place as the board meeting for the New York Presbyterian Hospital concluded.

"Susan," Maxine Preston smiled as she came up to her long-time friendly associate. "I want you to meet someone."

Turning, Susan made sure her public smile was spot on as she looked at the elegantly dressed Asian woman.

"This is Rena Yoshida, who is behind the generous donation to our Naturopathic Medical Program," Maxine introduced.

"Ms. Yoshida," Susan politely began, only for Gina to raise a hand.

"I would not object to your calling me Gina," the other woman smiled. "I lived in America while attending college and I know how much more comfortable it makes most Westerners to call someone by their first name."

"Yes, well," Susan said, mildly flustered, not sure what about this woman made her so unsettled. "Then I suppose I am Susan."

"I am honored, Susan," Gina said in a mildly calculating manner.

"What interested you in this program," Susan asked. "Surely there are similar programs in your homeland? You are Japanese I believe."

"You are good with names," Gina smiled coolly. "And yes, there are. But I had a business meeting here in New York with James Preston and Maxine began to tell me about the work here. I was impressed that a major New York hospital was willing to invest so much time and resources in Eastern Medicine."

"Well, it's what's best for the patients, isn't it?" Dr. Leola Simone asked as she approached the group. But before she could say anything else, her pager began to beep. Pulling it out, she frowned.

"You must forgive me," the neurologist said. "I am informed I have a patient to see in the Emergency Room. With this lovely weather," she laughed, "I am sure this will not be the first or last head injury I must deal with."

"Would you care for a cup of tea, Susan?" Gina asked. "I have no more meetings until dinner and the thought of heading back to my hotel to do paperwork holds no appeal to me."

"Certainly," Susan nodded at Maxine's anxious look. Mrs. Yoshida must have made a considerable contribution if Maxine was that determined to make her happy. Besides, going back to an all too-quiet house held no appeal to her either.

* * *

><p>Alan leaned against the wall, talking to his family on the phone.<p>

"Scott, I'm fine. Dad was awake when they took him into the exam room. They are calling for a neuro exam but I think it's mainly a precaution. Yes – Yes, Kate. I'm certain it was Jackson Mitchell. It's not like I am ever going to forget him. Sorry, Kate, it's not like I had a chance to ask how he escaped – I figured that was your venue. No…John? Seriously? You're linked in from work? How did you…Never mind, I don't want to know. I – oh, hi Em. Well, Emily I don't think your mother had anything to do with it. No, I saw her at my book signing. Yes, Sarah, I called – ok, well I had Anne Marie call the FBI. No, Virg – I don't think we need to have the attorney look into extending the restraining order. Gordo? No! Because I am fairly sure that is illegal. Listen Nemo, call your fiancée. Because she witnessed the shooting and is probably pretty upset. Now, can I talk to…Hey, sweetheart. Yeah, I'm ok. How are you feeling? OK, well, I will call back as soon as I know when we can bring Dad home. And Tin? I love you. I wish you were here with me. I just…Hey, gotta go. Love you both."

Hanging up his phone and slipping it into his pocket, Alan tried – and failed – to look innocent as Dr. Simone approached him.

"Well, Alan," the neurologist smiled at her former patient. "I am happy to be seeing you but I am concerned. I was sure when I last saw you, your vision was perfect."

"It is…" Alan began only to follow her eyes to look at the "NO CELL PHONE USE" sign above his head. Blushing, he shrugged. "Technically, it is a satellite phone."

Laughing, Dr. Simone shook her head. "Well, your father is a very lucky man. He will have a bad headache for a few days, but he just needed a few stitches and after we watch him for a couple of hours, you can take him home."

Alan grinned. "Thank you!" he smiled as he hugged her.

"An angel is who you should be thanking," Dr. Simone. "Oh, and tell Emily I am looking forward to seeing her for my two weeks next month."

"That's great, Dr. Simone," Alan said, hesitating before blurting out, "Can I see my Dad now?"

Laughing again, Dr. Simone nodded. "Of course, Alan." Gesturing to a nurse, she pushed him forward. "Kelly will take you to his exam room."

* * *

><p>Gina watched Alan from the shadows. She had been heading out the main entrance when she heard a journalist talking about the fact that Jeff Tracy had been admitted and one of his son's were with him after the man had been shot. Wondering which son it could be, Gina managed to slip through the hospital, finding the pass she had "forgotten" to return helpful.<p>

Seeing her enemy so close by, Gina's hands clenched repeatedly. How she longed to attack him but seeing him surrounded by hospital personnel, she knew Alan Tracy would once more escape justice.

"Ms. Yoshida?" Susan spoke from behind her. The socialite frowned at Gina. "Gina, you shouldn't be in this area. And security says you set off an alarm when you walked out with the badge."

Gina smiled. "I was looking for the security office when I realized I still had it."

Susan nodded, saying, "Do you know Alan Tracy?" gesturing at the young man's back.

"Is that who that was?" Gina asked.

Susan nodded, gesturing to a security officer. "Well, no need for the office, Barry here will take your badge. Come – I know a perfect place for a cup of tea."

Making sure Gina was walking ahead of her, Susan frowned. She had seen the way Gina had looked at Alan Tracy. That was not a look of disinterest or curiosity. That was a look of hatred. Susan would have to investigate this further.

Gina headed swiftly towards the doors, making sure Susan was behind her, wondering one thing…

Would she need to ensure Susan Haas became more than a scape-goat? Would she need to eliminate the woman on a more permanent basis?

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN - May be a bit until I can write again.**_


	16. Chapter 16

**The Enemy of My Enemy**

_**I could not own them here or there, I could not own them anywhere. I could not own them from top to bottom; Do you believe it's still technically autumn?**_

_**Everyone lives, subject to change without notice.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen<strong>

Ana Nevada stood in the icy rain, cursing winter weather once more – but not as much as she was cursing the hospital executive who had insisted that the reporters couldn't gather under the overhang in front of the hospital. Who cared if they were blocking traffic for patients and visitors? Let them use another entrance – she had a story to get out and needed to be looking good doing it.

With an imperceptible nod at the camera man, Ana began.

"Today on the streets of Manhattan, a cold blooded murder attempt against one of America's leading citizens had driven a chill into the heart if many worse than the icy rain that is currently coating the northeast. Jefferson Tracy, former astronaut and the billionaire who founded Tracy Enterprises, was shot in the head. No word on his condition at this time, but to make matters far worse, his youngest son, Alan witnessed the shooting. According to witnesses, the youngest Tracy son ran after the gunman, causing the assassin to run into busy New York City traffic where he was struck by a speeding bus. We will, of course, keep you updated on further developments."

Not twenty feet away, Rebecca Blake also faced a camera from underneath a large, sturdy umbrella.

"Earlier this afternoon, a disgruntled former employee of Tracy Enterprises, a man who has participated in repeated attacks against the Tracy Family and was eventually committed to a mental institute following the abduction and attempted murder of Alan Tracy, made a brazen attempt to murder family patriarch Jeff Tracy.

The shooting occurred in the late afternoon, near one of the side exits of the Tracy Towers. Jeff Tracy and one of his employees had just completed a meeting with a potential client when Jackson Mitchell approached the pair. According to numerous witnesses, Mitchell – a former software engineer from Tracy Enterprises who was first arrested for industrial theft and treason before he began attempts against the Tracy Family for his perceived sense of injustice – raised a gun and shot at Jeff Tracy point blank.

At the same time, not only was the shooting witnessed by the company's head of security, Carl Patrick on a security camera, but by Jeff Tracy's youngest son, Alan, who was here as part of the New York City Literacy Charitable Book Readings at Bing's Books in Manhattan. Alan Tracy had arrived just in time to see his father drop to the sidewalk and ran to his side. Confronting the gunman, Alan Tracy apparently yelled at the man who had less than a year ago abducted and buried him alive. At that point, witnesses say Mitchell ran into the street. Traffic, including a city bus driven by a driver with a perfect driving record, was going slower than usual. But when Mitchell ran straight in front of the bus, icy conditions made it impossible to stop in time. The would-be killer was pronounced dead at the scene by paramedics.

Jeff Tracy's condition has not been reported on at this time but sources at the scene say that he was conscious and speaking with his son as he was being transported to New York Presbyterian Hospital. We at Wolf News will keep you updated as the story changes."

Across the street from the hospital, Gina and Susan sipped tea and chatted about one inane thing after another. Neither woman wanted to admit that they didn't want to leave until they knew exactly what was going on. Gina was becoming annoyed at the way the Susan kept returning the topic to the Tracys and now she was certain the woman had become suspicious. Now THAT wouldn't do at all.

Seeing what appeared to be a hospital spokesperson emerge from the hospital to approach the gathered journalists, the restaurant manager turned on a television in the bar area, allowing those in his facility to observe the juicy updates without having to deal with the weather.

Sasha Buckley discreetly swallowed, a nervous wreck. She had only recently begun to work in the PR department and while she had spoken to the media before, never so many…Sasha noted all the major networks and even a BBC reporter.

"Earlier today, Jefferson Tracy was admitted to our facility after being shot. The Tracy family has asked that we acknowledge this and let everyone know that Mr. Tracy was injured but not as severely as reported earlier. The bullet creased the right side of Mr. Tracy's head, an injury that required several stitches but will cause no lasting damage. At this time, Mr. Tracy is resting comfortably and will be released after some additional observation. The family will be taking him home at that time and are asking for privacy as they deal with this shocking attack."

Sasha began to turn away, startled when reporters suddenly started to shout questions at her. "No comment," was her only answer until she looked in dismay at one question.

Ana Nevada called out, "Do you know if police have arrested Alan Tracy for the death of the man who allegedly shot his father?"

"How about asking law enforcement that?" Greg Sanders asked as he approached the reporters, a slender African American man with him. At a nod from the FBI Agent, the man addressed the journalists, introducing himself as Misha Ackles, the FBI media liaison.

"The initial investigation by the NYPD, combining eyewitness accounts and footage from multiple security cameras in the area, is that a lone assailant, identified as Jackson Mitchell, shot Jeff Tracy at point blank range. Luckily for Mr. Tracy, Mitchell was not a good shooter and, as you heard, will recover. However, the death of Mr. Mitchell was clearly an accident."

"But Alan Tracy chased him into traffic," Ana argued.

"Jackson Mitchell was armed, Alan Tracy was not," Ackles countered. "Further, Alan Tracy was prevented from following Mitchell by Carl Patrick, head of security for Tracy Enterprises. In addition, traffic footage confirms that the bus driver made all reasonable attempts to avoid the accident. It is the conclusion of law enforcement that Mr. Mitchell's death was an accident of his own making. What we – with the help of the FBI – are pursuing is how a man who should have been securely locked up in Illinois was walking freely around New York City, with a firearm. _That_ is still under investigation and we cannot comment on an active investigation at this time."

Glaring at the departing law enforcement, Ana turned back to her camera, her annoyance clearly showing.

"So, as you all heard, once more the wealthy and powerful Tracys will make the law rather than follow it. I am sure we will all breathe easier once they are securely back on their islands, thousands of miles away from the island of Manhattan."

Flipping her head back, Ana whirled to stalk off only to trip over a camera cable, falling into an icy gray snowbank vomiting after she noticed the yellow that indicated someone had walked a dog by there recently.

From a few feet away, Rebecca snickered. Karma was almost as big a bitch as Ana.

Almost.

* * *

><p>"That gaijin has the devil's own luck," Gina muttered, seemingly unaware of Susan's appalled look. Shortly after the broadcast, the two women walked outside, Gina solicitously hailing a cab for Susan, who had been told her car service didn't have anyone available.<p>

Susan sat in the cab, looking at dismay at the foreign driver who barely spoke any English. Gina, her veil carefully in place, leaned forward, quickly slipping a small stiletto upwards through Susan's ribs, drawing a pained gasp from the socialite.

Gina slid the bloody weapon under the driver's seat, pulling off her gloves after the vehicle pulled away with Susan bleeding out in the back. From experience, Gina knew the woman would be dead before the man had driven two blocks. With her lung probably collapsed already, Susan would have been unconscious shortly after the attack. Dropping her blood stained gloves into a nearby trashcan; Gina frowned as she hailed another cab. She would need to go to Neiman Marcus to replace her gloves.

She didn't want her hands getting damaged by the cold.

* * *

><p>As the sun finally set over New York City, Alan Tracy stirred slightly in his seat, feeling hands run softly through his hair even as he clutched his father's hand in his own.<p>

The noise in the background so indicative of a hospital setting didn't disturb Jeff Tracy at all but his son's murmur of "Mama," and the smell of lilacs made him force his eyes open. In that moment between sleep and awakening, Jeff was sure he saw Lucy standing next to Alan, running a hand over their baby's head. Blinking, Jeff stretched, regretting that he had awakened further, seeing Alan sitting there alone.

The television on in the room was tuned to Wolf News Network, and Jeff nodded slightly – regretting that as his head was _really_ hurting – glad that all this meant they could get the hell out of there soon, and that Alan would be safe back on the Island. He had a bad feeling that none of this was really over with.

"Dad," Alan said softly, seeing his father awake.

"Get some more sleep, Sprout," Jeff murmured. "You'll need it to fly us home."

Alan looked his father over carefully before nodding and closing his eyes, dropping back off quickly.

Jeff clutched Alan's hand tighter before he allowed the pain meds to draw him back into the land of Nod as well.

* * *

><p><strong>Twelve Hours Later<strong>

Emily Tracy thumbed through some reports, smirking when Sarah simply handed back a paper file.

No one teased her about her filing cabinets any more. In fact, the new one was slightly bigger – a gift from Virgil for the refurbished office as a thanks for the old one that had saved Sarah's life.

"When should Alan and Dad be back?" Sarah asked.

Glancing at her watch, Emily smiled. "Soon. They should be there by the time we get back. John says they sent out word when they left New York."

"Then come on," Sarah wheedled. "We want to go home, can't the paperwork be done there?"

Laughing, Emily nodded as she pulled together her papers to go back to Tracy Island. "Come on, we'll go…"

"Emily?" Lilly peeked around the corner, interrupting. "You have a phone call from New York."

"Is it the New York Presbyterian?" Emily asked. "They thought some of their plastic surgeons would be interested in doing rotations."

"He says he's your brother," Lilly said cautiously. "I didn't know you had a brother."

Emily was ready to refuse the call when Sarah held up her hand.

"Em, if you don't take that call, you'll regret it. As much as…She was still my sister and I still hurt by what happened."

Emily nodded. At least Roddy had never tried to burn her alive.

Sitting back down, Emily turned on her vid-phone.

"Hello, Roderick," Emily said politely.

"Emily," Roderick responded, his eyes red and his voice shaky.

"Roddy," Emily spoke up, worried when her brother didn't say anything . "What's wrong?"

Roderick looked incredibly sad. "You haven't called me Roddy since we were kids. I've missed that. I've missed you."

Looking down, Emily played with the edge of a photo frame. Smiling slightly at the sight of her children, she looked back at her brother.

"Susan made it clear to you and her husband. Me or her. You both chose her."

"When was the last time you called her mother?"

"When was the last time she acted like my mother," Emily snapped back. "Listen, if she asked you to call me, tell her my kids are off limits and I have nothing to do with the investigation- "

"She's dead," Roderick interrupted.

"What?" Emily gasped.

"M-mother is dead," Roderick said, tears gathering in his eyes. "Father had to be sedated. Emily, she was the victim of a robbery. Some Middle Eastern taxi driver – God, why didn't she wait for the car service? She called the car service, but the weather was awful. They said it would be an hour. But she was…The man stabbed her, and was dumping her body. He's claiming he found her dead in his back seat and panicked. So he took her wallet and watch and dumped her body like she was trash. Please, Emily. Father needs you. Please. Will you come to New York?"

Emily didn't even realize she was shaking until Sarah put a comforting arm around her. "If you want to go, Em," the redhead gently said, "one of us will take you."

"If it helps," Roderick said, "Father said that – that she was very upset that last day. After seeing your brother-in-law, she told Father how much she regretted everything and how she knew she would never see you or the children because…because you were too much alike. Both too stubborn and too proud. She's dead, but Emily – I am afraid. Father…no matter what, you know how much he loved her. I'm afraid we could lose him as well."

"I'll be coming," Emily finally said. "I'll send word on when – but it will be soon, I promise."

Emily sat in silence for a moment before speaking.

"Damn her."

"What?" Sarah said, surprised at that reaction.

"Damn her, damn her, damn her!" Emily snapped. "How dare she?"

"How dare she what?" Sarah asked in confusion.

"How dare she die and just…just leave other people to clean up her messes? How could she just…I'll be the bad guy and she…What was wrong with her? Most people would be proud to have a smart, accomplished child but not her. Oh, no, not Susan Haas. I wasn't the debutant of the year like her. I refused to hide my intelligence. I wanted to be a doctor, I wanted my life to have meaning, I…wanted my mother to be proud of me…" Emily broke into tears. "I wanted my mother to love me. Why couldn't she love me, Sarah? Why? And now she's dead and all I can think is what was wrong with me?"

"Nothing was wrong with you, Emily," Sarah fiercely promised her sister-in-law as she hugged her. "Nothing. And I think, in the end, Susan Haas knew that."

The two women sat there for some time before Sarah gently guided Emily home. They needed their family for this.

Gina finished a business report before looking up at Aito and gesturing him to sit.

"My contacts in Europe say that the packages will be available for shipment soon. Are the accommodations ready?"

"Yes," Aito nodded. "The house in California has been prepared. It will be secluded and the servant is discreet."

"And would you mind telling me why Jackson Mitchell was used earlier than planned?"

Aito gulped, seeing the anger in Gina's eyes.

"He was unstable!" Aito protested. "I felt –"

"You were not to make that choice," Gina said coldly. "It was mine. And you used an asset poorly. Given the chance, he couldn't even shoot at Alan Tracy. And ultimately, that is who I wanted dead." Breathing in deeply, Gina stood up.

"Go to the California place and wait for me. I will be in touch to let you know when I and our packages can be expected."

Bowing slightly, Aito escaped from her presence, glad to still be alive.

Had he seen the cold disdain that burned in Gina's eyes Aito may have made alternate plans.

* * *

><p><strong>Happy Holidays, huh?<strong>


End file.
